Books of Blue
by Silver and Blue
Summary: Helga is left feeling used and broken after a terrible incident, and Arnold feels worthless when he cannot help her. "She had just wanted to wash the feeling away, the feeling worth nothing."  A/H pairing, strong themes. Warning inside!
1. Chapter 1: The incident

**A/N: This is my first HA! fic. It might ruin your childhood a little, MAKE SURE YOU READ THE WARNING before continuing. More chapters to come, it'll become quite steady and safe for the next couple chapters, and then start to get a little heavy again. You'll see, anyway.**

_**Note: the reactions to the situations in this story are based on ways that actual people react in these situations, mainly stronger people like Helga. If a similar situation happens to you, you should tell someone you trust (I know everyone says that) and utilise the help available to you. Remember, school psychiatrists are bound to secrecy.**_

**WARNING: This story contains _coarse language_, and deals with issues of _rape_ and _depression_. If you have been raped, or are easily offended, you may not like to read on. There are no graphic details explained (no body part names are mentioned) and nothing too powerful is inside. However, it does give way and explain the events that unfold. Please be careful, I do not wish to offend anyone or receive flames because you did not heed my warning.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold! or any of it's characters, credit goes to Craig Bartlett and the Nickelodeon company.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Helga screwed her eyes shut tight; trying to will away what she was now aware of happening.<p>

_No. It isn't supposed to be like this,_ she thought to herself as the sweaty, over-confident college student pulled himself on top of her.

She hadn't meant for it to happen. She just wanted to wash the feeling away, the feeling worth nothing. She just wanted _someone_ to notice her for once, someone to notice her and actually _like_ her. But she hadn't meant to go this far. She had drunk too much on purpose, and she had used her fake ID on purpose, to get into the club, and she _had_ intended to meet a college student, but she really hadn't wanted to go so far.

She had fallen apart when he started kissing her. He was such a charmer, the college boy. They had spoken all night. He had laughed at her jokes, put his arm around her a lot and kissed her cheeks a thousand times. And it had felt really _nice_. So nice, that when she had to run from the club (because she was so _obviously_ not 21, how do 15 year olds pass for that age? Stupid bouncers, that's how. Okay, she had flirted, but it was harmless) that when he suggested they go back to his place she agreed. Her drunken mind was foolish, and when he kissed her she had kissed him back. She had let him push her onto the bed and caress her not-fully developed breasts because he had made her feel so good.

"So, how old _are_ you?" he had asked her, and she told him the truth, only fifteen years old. He had just laughed as he ripped her dress off over her head. As the dress pulled over her head, taking a bundle of hair with her, she had become aware of the situation. He was going to have sex with her.

But she was too drunk to do anything. And now she lay there, naked, un-prepared, terrified of this man that was on top of her, about to take from her something she knew she could never get back.

Something she had always dreamed would go to Arnold. Why didn't this man care that she was still a minor? Didn't he know she was a virgin? She opened her eyes and could tell from the smile, the devilish, evil smile that he had guessed. And he loved it.

"…stop," she croaked out, pushing her eyes shut tight again. She knew he wouldn't stop, and in her asking she felt the last of her pride slip through her hands. She had begged for mercy from him, even when she knew he wouldn't give any.

In a vain attempt to calm herself, she thought of Arnold. She tried to pretend it was him on top of her, not this college boy, but as the college boy (was Ryan his name?) slid into her knew she was fooling nobody. With Arnold it wouldn't be like this, with Arnold, it wouldn't feel like being torn apart. She cried out softly in pain, trying hard to focus on Arnold, and yet she found thinking of him was making her feel worse. Thinking about how he would feel if he found out… not that he'd probably care, was killing her.

Weakly, Helga opened her eyes to the man that was above her, carelessly and angrily thrusting into her limp body. His face looked twisted and cruel; his mouth a thin line as though having sex with her was a task. Helga wasn't aware of her tears until they were streaming down her face, and, as he noticed them when she did, his mouth turned into a smile. His rough angry hands squeezed her hard, making her cry out in more pain, and his free hand shot to her mouth, covering it.

"Shut the fuck up," he growled, and Helga did as she was told.

She felt sick, like vomiting, but she didn't think that would help the matter. Nothing was going to stop this man. She just had to hold her guts, bite back the pain and wait until it was over.

Then, no matter how drunkenly, she would get the hell out of there. She didn't know if she would be able to walk, let alone run, but running is what she wanted to do. She tried to distract herself by thinking about who lived nearby, but her brain moved so slowly it was painful, until, with a pang, she realised she had no idea where she was.

This night couldn't get any worse.

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><p>Arnold tapped his pen lightly but rapidly on the desk in his room, staring at the raindrops that were pounding the ceiling. Downstairs there was a ruckus, something Oskar did to Mr Wenn- he didn't know, but they were being <em>very<em> distracting from his homework.

Sighing, Arnold tossed down the pen and leaned back in his chair, staring idly at all the mementos he had gathered over the years of his life in the city. Movie stubs, books he had loved so much he had to buy, millions of maps of jungles, and other various things. He pulled himself out of his chair and crossed to the mirror, running his hand through his hair as he did so. A lot had changed. He had grown- a lot, actually, he managed to fit now into the flannel shirt he had always worn as a child. Well, it still hung a little loose- but Grandpa told him he was still growing, and by the time he was finished it would fit him just as perfectly as it had once fit his father.

But he wasn't the only one who had changed. The girls, especially, had all changed, and not just physically. They had all deemed themselves too important to play on Gerald field anymore, and instead spent time on their appearances and talked about _girl_ stuff. Even Helga spent more time on her appearance, but she still made time to play baseball, at least.

Helga- now there was a change. She looked a completely different person, really. She never wore her hair in pigtails anymore, but instead varied from plaits to ponytails, and, occasionally on the days she looked rushed, wore it out. Her mono brow was long gone and forgotten, and occasionally she was even seen with painted nails. Her personality had changed, too. The sessions with her psychiatrist had done her a world of good, she has slowly let the angry, fake Helga subside and let the kinder, softer and caring Helga show. And Arnold liked it. _Really_ liked it, actually, he wouldn't say he _liked_ her liked her, but he liked her as a friend, a lot. They even hung out together, just the two of them sometimes, which Arnold liked especially, as she always seemed in a brighter mood the smaller the crowd was, even if she did act shyer at times.

Without even really thinking about doing it, he pulled out his mobile phone and started texting her. The two of them were the laugh of the school with their phones- Helga's was an old hand-down brick from Olga, and Arnolds was a brick because it's all they could afford. Everyone else had fancy styled phones, but Arnold didn't mind. The brick worked just fine.

He texted her offering a visit, maybe they could do homework together if she could find a way to his house without getting drenched, and shoved his phone back in his pocket. He threw himself down on his bed and daydreamed- something he was still increasingly good at, until his phone finally vibrated in his pocket. He had almost forgotten he'd even sent a text.

'_Hey Arnold, yeah, I'd like to come over, I'm getting nothing done here what with Miriam and Bob being noisy and drunk. But, I don't know that I should. I know you've noticed I've been a little sad lately, and I'm feeling it today. Sure you want to deal with that?'_

Arnold stared at the ceiling for a moment and pondered. Helga _had_ seemed down lately, but no one knew why. Whatever it was, it was bottled inside like with all her problems, and she did a good job of hiding it. Arnold texted back telling her to come over anyway. Maybe he could cheer her up, or even help her get through her problem. He made his way downstairs to greet her at the door, trying to blackout the sound of the yelling in the background. When she finally arrived he led her upstairs and shut the door behind them.

"Sorry about my family. They get that way a lot," Arnold apologised, handing her a towel to dry the jeans she had gotten wet on the walk over.

"Thanks, and don't worry about it. They're great," she smiled, a fake smile, and Arnold offered one back, offering her a seat on the couch.

"So, Helga," he started as she sat down, towelling the moisture from her hair, "I was wondering, you mentioned you were upset in your text. And I wondered, what's wrong?" he asked, his green eyes glancing into her blue ones. Helga gulped and tugged at her shirt as though she suddenly thought it was too tight.

"What? Nothing Arnold, nothing at all, heh heh," she stammered, and Arnold raised an eyebrow. He knew her well enough now to know what would get her talking.

"Helga…" he said slowly and forcefully, knowing it was all he would have to say, and sure enough she looked at him before sighing.

"Things… just haven't been so great for me lately," she said, her eyes glued now on anything that wasn't him.

"Why? What happened?" Arnold asked sensitively, frowning to himself. Were those tears in her eyes?

"Nothing, Arnold, nothing,"

"Helga…"

"Well, okay, maybe something happened, okay? Something big. But I can't tell you about it,"

"Well, why not?" Arnold asked, considering placing a comforting hand on her shoulder but deciding against it.

"I just… I just can't, okay?" she said, her gaze finally meeting his, and Arnold saw that the tears were definitely there. They hadn't fallen to her cheeks yet, but he knew not to press the matter further. He wished he could hug her, though. He hated to see her sad, he hated to see anyone sad, but with Helga... she just looked so broken and beyond repair. But he knew she would talk when she was ready. Well, he would have to make her talk, but she would do it when she wanted too. He just hoped it didn't get worse.

"Okay Helga. Want to do some work?" he asked, trying to sound cheery, and Helga nodded, reaching into her backpack and pulling out her books.

"Sure thing, football head," she smiled, before the two of them set to work. They worked for over an hour before Arnold's phone rang in his pocket.

"Hello?"

"Arnold! It's me, Gerald!"

"Oh. Hey Gerald," Arnold answered, smiling at Helga and pulling himself off the couch. Helga smiled back and continued scribbling in her books.

"So listen Arnold, I know you're probably busy being a nerd and all, but I wondered if you wanted to come over and watch scary movies instead of doing your homework?" Gerald asked, and Arnold pondered.

"Uh… yeah, I guess I could do that. I'll be over in a while, okay?" he agreed before hanging up. Helga looked at him questioningly, and Arnold smiled at her.

"That was Gerald, he wants me to go over to his house for a while. Want me to walk you home?" Arnold asked Helga politely, who shook her head.

"It's in an opposite direction, Arnold," she said, packing up her books and snatching up her umbrella. "And it's not far. I'll be fine on my own. Thanks, though," she smiled warmly and Arnold led her outside.

"You sure you'll be okay to walk home on your own?" he asked again on the doorstep as the two of them opened their umbrellas to the settling rain.

"Sure will be, football head," the smile she gave him was fake, he could tell, and he could tell that she wasn't at all happy, but what could he do? She gave him a wave and began walking home. It took Arnold half a walk to Gerald's house before he realised he definitely _should_ have walked Helga home. She might be a strong person, but she was upset, and he should have made sure she got home safely and happily. He decided to text her later to make sure everything was okay, trying desperately to push the worried thoughts out of his mind.

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><p><strong>AN: Hey guys, hope you liked it. I also hope I didn't ruin too many childhoods. It gets brighter from here on in, but there are still refences/flashback scenes throughout the chapters to come that might also cause offense. Nothing as bad as that until much closer to the end, though, and as I haven't written it yet, I don't know how bad that will be.**

**I've already written the next two chapters, I would just like some input from you guys before I post them. Did I ramble too much in the Arnold scene? The rest of the scenes are much more like that, and I worry they're too long. I can cut them shorter ANYTIME. Let me know! ;D**


	2. Chapter 2: The blue book

**A/N: Hello everyone. This chapter doesn't need a warning because everything in it is pretty safe. This chapter isn't all that exciting, because it's a set-up chapter for next chapter, but I promise next chapter is boss. **

**So please, read my pretties, read!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own HA!**

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><p>Helga had not been okay to walk home. It had been late, and cold, and rainy. Every time she heard a noise she had jumped almost out of her skin. But she had arrived safely, regardless of her brain telling her something would otherwise <em>surely <em>happen.

But it hadn't, and now, it was just another stereotypical day at Winston high school. Helga tugged at the blue uniform impatiently as her English teacher called the roll. She hated it; it was almost as though it had been designed by paedophile of the year. The skirt was too short, the shirt too low, and the socks high as though she was a stereotypical porn-star schoolgirl. A lot of the girls hated it, but the girls like Rhonda thought it was the best uniform in town. The boys had it alright, until it came to swimming season and their bathers were nothing but speedos.

E-yuck.

After the Ryan incident, Helga hated the uniform more than ever. She hated the way seniors, juniors, even some of the boys in her year stared at her, and whenever she saw them she could see Ryan's face, leering down at her as he bought her yet another drink.

Apart from the occasional reminder about what had happened, Helga could barely remember a thing. She had awoken the next morning in her bed (how she had gotten there was a mystery if there ever was one) and if it weren't for the pain she had felt in her loins she could possibly have convinced herself it was nothing more than a bad dream.

Helga shook her head to clear it. She was in English, and she liked English. She excelled in everything she did, she was second only to Phoebe in the years ranking, but English was by far her favourite.

Only problem was, she was all out of creative genius. She used to be able to pull a story or poem out of the air like _that_, and now whenever she put pen to paper she just found nothing would come.

Luckily, it was all essay writing for the moment anyway, and while Helga struggled to keep her mind focused these days anyway at least Essay writing was completely impersonal.

After class, Helga's teacher, Miss Fenwagon, called her to the front.

"What's up, Miss?" Helga tried to greet cheerfully, and Miss Fenwagon sighed.

"Well Helga, I noticed things haven't been as cheerful for you lately, and I just wanted to see if everything is okay," she said politely, and Helga gulped. First Arnold, now her teachers? She would have to act harder.

"Well, sure Miss, everything is fine," she lied, and, considering, decided to elaborate so as not to seem too obvious. "It's just that I feel like I can't be creative anymore, it's like I've forgotten how to write anything good. And I know we're doing essays, but writing always helped me think, and what if I haven't bounced back by exam time?" Helga said, throwing her hands in the air to show exasperation. Miss Fenwagon leant back in her chair, seeming to consider Helga's words for a moment for responding.

"Well, Helga, it's no secret that you're the best there is when it comes to poetry and creative writing, and we do have a poetry segment coming up in a few months, so I can understand your concern. But I think I know what I can do to help," she said, before rummaging through her desk. Helga rolled her eyes. She hadn't lied- she couldn't write anything good anymore, but she didn't care that much. She barely cared about anything anymore. She just wanted to feel safe for once.

"Here," Miss Fenwagon finally said, pulling out a blue spiral book, "take this. I've seen you write in pink books from time to time, no doubt they're like a diary, yes?" she asked, and Helga nodded uncomfortably. Whaaaaaat… "Well, this is like a diary too, only it's your Creative Diary. I want you to write in it every day. Whenever something that is bothering you comes to mind, write it down. Whenever you have a fond memory, write that down too. Write down everything that comes into your head, expressions of anger, of hate, you'll be surprised how quickly it fills up. You don't have to write anything in verse, you don't have to paraphrase or anything. I don't have to read it if you don't want me too, but I want you to write in it. The best pieces of writing _always_ come from writing what you know," Miss Fenwagon said, and Helga looked down at the book. She guessed it couldn't hurt to do as she was told.

"Okay Miss, I'll do that, thanks," she smiled, and began to leave the classroom.

"Oh, and Helga?"

"Yeah Miss?"

"Call me Rose,"

Helga looked back at Rose with surprise, smiled awkwardly, and headed out for lunch. She had barely made it ten steps down the corridor when a senior boy crashed into her.

"_Hey! Watch where you're going!" Helga snapped as the tall, brown-haired man had bumped into her, spilling her drink all down her dress._

"_Yikes! I'm so sorry, I'm so clumsy. Here, let me help you clean it up," the man had said, pulling a napkin off the nearby counter and dabbing at her dress. "I feel bad, getting such a nice dress wet. And on such a pretty lady, too. Can I at least buy you a new drink to make up for it?" he asked politely, and Helga looked into his eyes. He seemed like a nice enough guy, tall, handsome, clearly in college, exactly what she was looking for._

"_Well… sure, I guess," Helga finally agreed, smiling, and he beamed warmly at her, extending a hand._

"_My name is Ryan, it's so nice to meet you,"_

Helga shook her head to clear the memory out of her mind. Across from her was the senior boy who had also fallen to the ground upon impact.

"Sorry, you okay?" he asked her, and she nodded, gathering her books and scrambling from the room. She found refuge outside, and she opened the blue book curiously. It was empty, of course, but she wasn't sure what to put inside. She and Dr Bliss had ended their sessions two years ago when Helga's antisocial behaviour had subsided finally to normal. When she had left, she had told Helga to keep writing diary's every day to help organise her thoughts. Usually, Helga's only thoughts were about Arnold, and so that's what riddled her diary. But now, she was bombarded with something else.

She decided, then and there, to do what Rose had said and use both pink and blue books. She would use the pink one for Arnold, as she always did, and the blue one for Ryan. If it helped organise her thoughts, helped her _move on_, even, it was worth it.

A little scared, she put the pen on the page and started writing.

**Ryan.**

**I don't even know if that's his fucking name.**

**What the hell were you thinking, Helga? Were you trying to be grown up? What did you expect to happen? Okay, not that, I know you didn't expect that, but you did expect something similar. You went out with the intention of getting drunk and you had done that. Why did you have to let yourself get carried away with that **_**stupid fucking Ryan!**_

**Look at you. You can't do anything now. You need time to heal, old girl, I know that, but crimmeny, something needs to happen fast. You can't keep bumping into seniors in the hallway and panicking at the memories **_**he**_** left. You have to pull yourself out.**

**Come on, Helga G. Pataki. Bring yourself to life.**

Helga stared at the page. Holy crap, that was more than she had ever even _thought_ about the situation. She didn't feel better, but she also didn't feel worse.

"Hey Helga,"

Helga snapped the book closed in record timing, before looking up to see Phoebe, Rhonda and Nadine take a seat next to her.

"What'cha writing in? A _diary?"_ Rhonda almost teased, and Helga rolled her eyes, shoving her book into her backpack.

"It's just something Miss Fenwagon gave me. Personal stuff, you know," she blubbered, before turning to Phoebe. "Gerald asked you out yet?" she asked, desperate to change the subject, and Phoebe shook her head.

"Well, no. I wish he _would_, but I'm starting to think it'll _never_ happen," Phoebe murmered, and Rhonda laughed loudly.

"Oh, he is _so_ into you though Phoebe. Know what needs to happen? We just need to throw a party so he can see you in a non-school situation. Then he'll be able to see how fun you are! Besides, it's a _great_ opportunity for me to wear my new outfit!" she exclaimed excitedly, and Phoebe shook her head.

"Oh, I don't know that I'm all too much fun, Rhonda. And besides, if he wants to ask me out, he will," she said chirpily enough, and Helga smiled sadly at her best friend. Gerald and Phoebe were clearly into each other, but every other girl in the school also seemed to be into Gerald, who, upon becoming champion of the Basketball team, could get any girl he wanted, it seemed. Helga put a comforting hand on Phoebes shoulder.

"Don't worry Phoebe, Rhonda's right, he does like you too. I can tell by the way he looks at you," Helga tried to comfort, but Phoebe just shrugged.

"Maybe…"

"So a party it is?" Rhonda said impatiently, and Phoebe shrugged. "If you want too, Rhonda, but don't do it just for me,"

"Of _course_ it's not just for you. It's just a good _opportunity_ for you. You girls will all come, right?" Rhonda asked, pulling out her pink notepad and making a list of names.

"And we'll need Gerald, and I suppose we should invite Harold- gosh, he's sure thinned out, hasn't he? He looks just ravishing. Anyway, Sid and Stinky, Sheena, who else?" she asked, and they all started prattling off names about who should attend such an awesome party. The list grew and grew with both Nadine and Rhonda's lists- Nadine had made friends with a lot of science nerds in the year above them, and Rhonda knew both men and women from the year above her who thought she was just as interesting as them with her taste in fashion. The list grew to about thirty before Rhonda put down her pen.

"Anyone else?" she wondered, and Helga pondered to herself. Maybe a party would be good for her, help get her mind off things, cheer her up a little. And she knew who she wanted there if she was going.

"…Arnold?"

"Oh, of _course_ Arnold! I forgot all about him, he's on the list too," she said, clicking the pen back on and writing down his name at the end of the list. "Alright. I think Friday week my parents are going out of town, so I'll start getting the word around tomorrow. Now, listen, ladies," Rhonda said, leaning in. "My friends are all a little older… and I know Nadine's friends are too, but, _well,_ you know, anyway, they'll probably want to drink alcohol, and _I'M _not going to be the one to stop them, in fact, I might even join them," she said matter-of-factly. "And you girls are more than welcome to do so too. Because we're only fifteen, I know your parents won't buy you alcohol, so does anyone have any ideas? My friends will probably buy me my own, but you'll have to sort yourselves out," she finished, before leaning back and looking at her nails. Helga hated how self-important Rhonda was, she always had, but over the years, thanks to Dr Bliss's help she found she could stand her and would maybe even call her a good friend- not that she could ever trust her secrets, Ryan or Arnold, with her.

"Oh, gosh, don't you think we're a little young? Think about the impacts alcohol has on our undeveloped brains and livers," Phoebe gushed, and Rhonda looked beside her impatiently.

"Yes, but think of the studies you could do on the influence it had on your brain, Phoebe," she scowled, and Phoebe brightened up a bit. It was clear she wanted to try it.

"Well, I guess it could work. However would we obtain it?"

"I know how," Helga said before she realised what she was saying, and she kicked herself mentally. These people weren't supposed to know about all the times Helga had downed her mother's drink to deal with her mother's own alcoholism, her father's ignorance and _Olga_.

"I…I mean I've heard of what to uh…"

"…you've been _drunk_ before?" Rhonda gasped, and Helga facepalmed.

"Yeah, I have, and shut up while I tell you how to get the booze. You pour out the alcohol from your parents' booze- preferably a white drink like vodka- and replace it with water. Bingo, it's all yours,"

"Wow, Helga, you sure know your stuff," Nadine peeped beside her, and Helga shrugged.

"Yeah, well, Miriam helps with that," Helga snuffed, and Rhonda laughed.

"Guess having an alcoholic mother comes in handy!"

…_Bitch!_

The bell rang loudly and the girls made their way back to class, Helga deep in thought as she walked. She didn't know if she wanted to drink again. Drinking is what had led her to be so useless, powerless against Ryan. She knew she would be about a thousand times safer at Rhonda's than she was in the presence of a complete stranger, but still, she worried. A she sat down in her lone seat in maths she found herself reaching for the little blue book once again. Besides, she was already ahead in this class.

**To drink, or not to drink,**

**That is the question at hand.**

**Hamlet once asked whether to be or not to be,**

**And I wonder, are our ponderings so different?**

**To be alive is to endure the pains and sufferings of life, is it not?**

**And to die, to sleep, aye, the rub indeed- who knows the consequences of the repercussions there?**

**And so I pose an alternative- To drink or not to drink?**

**Is to drink to suffer or to be sober to suffer?**

**In both cases I find myself suffering**

**But to sober is to be aware, to feel the heartaches and the thousand natural shocks. To sleep, to dream, is to be drunk, and be unaware of all that surrounds you.**

**And in this case, I think I choose death.**

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><p>AN: Chapter three is already done, so I'll have that one up soon too. And _believe_ me, the next chapter has a whole lot happening in it! Get excited guys (when I said guys, it occurred to me that I might only have the one reader. That makes me a little sad.) Please review guys, it makes happy! ;D


	3. Chapter 3: Wicked Party Part One

**A/N: Here we go! Next chapter done and dusted. Last chapter I worried I only had one viewer. Now I know I have at least three. And you three- well, I love you guys.**

**This chapter has no offensive material in it, but the next chapter might have some. But we'll see, won't we? For once I haven't already finished the a chapter ahead of time, so you might actually have to wait a week or so before the next upload. Then again, it is assignment week, and this IS a nice way to procastinate...**

**Anyway, enjoy the reading, and as always, Review for me! This chapter goes out to "I'll be Home for Christmas" by littlepinkbook, if you have time, check it out, and the prequel!**

_**Disclaimer: I do not own HA!, or the song "Smile for the Paparazzi" written and performed by Cobra Starship.**_

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><p>Over the next week not a whole lot happened. Helga stole a bottle of Jack Daniels from Miriam, who had so many she didn't notice. All anyone had ever spoken about was <em>Rhonda's Wicked Party<em>, which was shaping up to look pretty wicked indeed. According to Rhonda, everyone was drinking. For most people, Helga realised, it would be their first times _just like your first time with Ryan_ getting drunk, and she had to admit, she was looking forward to seeing them all stumble and gape at the effects. Phoebe was at her house now, getting ready. The two have them had already organised to stay the night at Rhonda's, most people had, and they had their alcohol and mixers hidden deep in their bags, padded by clothes so as to keep the secret from their parents.

Phoebe pulled two items out of her bag and held them up for Helga.

"What do you think? The blue or the red?" she asked, and Helga looked at the dresses. Both looked equally nice, respectable but certainly not boring, both were short and a little low cut. They looked basically the same, actually.

Helga pointed her finger at the red dress Phoebe was holding up. "That one," she said defiantly. "Red is more your colour,"

"…but I wear blue every day,"

"Exactly," she responded, to which Phoebe shrugged, stripped and put on the dress.

"Look okay?"

"Phoebe, you look hot. And I'm not just saying that because we're best friends," Helga beamed, and Phoebe turned a similar colour to her dress.

"What're you wearing Helga?" she asked, opening Helga's wardrobe and looking inside.

"I dunno, I thought just jeans and a T-shirt,"

"You really think Arnold will like that?"

"_Phoebe!"_ Helga couldn't help but thunder, causing Phoebe to jump in her skin. Helga calmed down and took a breath, muttering an apology.

"Helga, I know the way you feel about Arnold is supposed to be a secret, but I'm your best friend! And you _know_ I know; why can't we talk about it? The way I talk to you about Gerald?" Phoebe asked innocently, and Helga felt her muscles tighten. Having two secrets to keep from Phoebe _was_ hard work when she had told her everything else, hell; Phoebe was the only one who had seen her cry! And she could trust Phoebe, she knew she could.

"You're right, I'm sorry. Guess I'm just so used to keeping it a secret I'm worried even talking about it aloud will give something away," Helga explained, and Phoebe nodded, smiling.

"It's okay Helga. What about…" she continued rummaging through Helga's wardrobe and Helga checked the time. They needed to go soon.

"Oh, this one is cute!" Phoebe explained, holding up a dress. It was short, very short, and very low cut, and very tightly fitting. The dress was an array of black and pink, and it shone in bright lights.

"_Man, that dress looks great on you,_" _Ryan said, pouring Helga yet another glass from the rum and coke jug they had ordered. The bourbon didn't taste great, but as he handed her the drink Helga couldn't help but accept it._

"_Well… thanks!" she replied, drinking it all too quickly._

"_Man, how'd I get so lucky? Prettiest girl in the nightclub right here by my side. I should be so lucky," he had said, kissing her lightly on the cheek and draping an arm around her shoulders. Helga looked away and sipped her drink, wondering if he could tell she was blushing in all the darkness. It felt so nice to be with a guy who appreciated her for once. It felt so nice to, for once, to be with a guy she could trust._

Helga snapped out of her memories and back to the dress Phoebe was holding up. Phoebe had a worried look on her face as she lowered the dress closer to the ground.

"Helga…?"

"Uh, not that dress tonight Phoebe. It's a little slutty,"Helga lied, and as Phoebe placed the dress back in the cupboard before pulling out another.

"Better?"

Helga stared at it for a moment before shaking her head. She didn't really want to wear a dress, they were easy access and prohibited running, and she rather wanted the option just in case.

"What if I wear short-shorts, will that make it better?" Helga asked finally, pulling open the drawer and showing them to Phoebe, who stared at them for a moment before nodding.

"Why, yes, I think those'll do nicely," she finally agreed, and Helga pulled them on. They decided on a shirt, a yellow and black stripy shirt that rather made her look like a bee, and out they went.

Hurriedly, Phoebe and Helga rushed to the party, set down their things in Rhonda's room, pulled out their 600mL water bottles filled with alcoholic beverages and mixed with soft drink, and began to make their way downstairs.

Before Helga reached the railing, however, she found her feet glued to the floor.

"A-actually, Phoebe I might meet you down there. I need to make a phone call, kay? Go find Gerald," she said, trying to sound cheerful, and Phoebe, who was too excited to party and be rebellious for the first time in her life, didn't notice otherwise, and hurried downstairs. Helga backed into Rhonda's bedroom again and sat herself on the bed. Rhonda's bedroom was huge, no doubt she, and other people, would be fooling around in here tonight. Hopefully Helga would be able to remove her things from the room before that happened.

Helga sighed and started drinking. The sooner she was drunk, the better. Slowly, the minutes ticked by and while Helga couldn't feel any real difference the half empty bottle told her the moment she stood up she would.

The half empty bottle also told her she really needed a wee.

Screwing the lid on tight, Helga made her way to the upstairs bathroom. It was still a noisy mess downstairs, a mess she was almost ready to join. She did her business and started making her way downstairs, sculling her drink as she went. By the time she reached the last step she was tonguing at the last couple drops (why did the last of every drink always have to taste the worst?) and threw the bottle in the bin.

She was pretty drunk, she would have to admit, and she looked around. She could tell by looking she wasn't the drunkest there, and she eyed the punch bowl. No doubt it was filled with goon. She began picking her way through the bodies full of sweat in an attempt to make it to the bowl.

_Helga tried to make her way back to Ryan from the bathrooms, but was instead bombarded by dancing bodies. None of them noticed her, she was used that happening. She picked her way through the crowd of people, placing her hand on the back of a person she didn't know when she was knocked from behind. She yanked her hand away from the sweat coated back and pushed through faster, she could see Ryan, he wasn't looking at her, but he shone like a beacon of light at the end of a dark, drunken and confused tunnel. _

_Finally, she was out of the dancing bodies and on the couch next to Ryan. He smiled and placed his arm back around her, pulling her close to him as she wriggled to get comfortable. She felt the butterflies in her stomach take off as he kissed her cheek, and she beamed, shoving him and taking yet another drink from the table. This would be her last one, she promised herself. But even if she had drunk too much, who cared? Ryan was there. _

_She felt safe with Ryan._

Helga stopped mid-crowd and pressed her fingertips to her temples. _Stop it, go away Ryan_, she told herself, before continuing on.

It was worrying. Ryan was becoming more than an annoying and devastating memory; he was becoming a force in her head. He could stop her in her tracks; threaten her with tears at any minute.

Helga had cried once about the incident, in the shower the morning after. She hadn't intended too, but when the smell of Ryan, the taste, the _feel_ of him couldn't be washed away by painfully hot water, she found she couldn't help it.

She was supposed to be in control, goddamn-it!

The punch bowl appeared in front of her magically. She didn't even realise she had pushed on, walked through the crowd.

…_well, at least my body is in control of something._

She was just scooping herself a drink when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

"Helga!" Phoebe called, and Helga turned around, her eyes widening as she saw her friend.

"Phoebe… are you drunk already?"

"…you're drunk already too," Phoebe said guiltily, and Helga laughed.

"Yeah, I am, I'm just surprised, I thought you'd take it slow. Find Gerald?" she asked, and Phoebe's eyes widened as though she had just remembered.

"Oh! Why, yes I did, and you'll never believe it Helga… it's all too funny!"

"What's too funny, Pheebs?" Helga asked, and Phoebe beckoned her to lean closer. Helga bent down, lower_, _until Phoebe whispered in her ear "Arnold's drunk,"

Well, Helga was there in a second.

* * *

><p>Arnold, Gerald and the boys sat outside sipping their beers, happy to get away from the loud and stupid crowd. They had talked about everything, Harold dropping out of school after this year, Sid telling them all they should try marijuana, Stinky's love for Lemon Pudding, Gerald and Phoebe and all other sorts. And now, they were talking about Arnold.<p>

And Helga.

"Arnold likes _Hel-ga_,"

"I do not, Harold. She's just a friend,"

"Arnold and Helga, sitting in a tree,"

"Shut up Sid, how old are you, nine?"

"Well, gawsh, I think she's mighty fine since she stopped bein' a bitch an all,"

"Yeah, Stinky, she's great, but…"

"AHH-HAHAHAHAHAHA- YOU LIKE HELGA,"

"Shut _up_, Harold," Arnold growled, drinking more and more of his beer with each insult. He hadn't intended to drink much. He hadn't intended to drink at all, originally, until Grandpa had bought him beers. Then, the plan was to only drink two. Now the plan looked like it was to drink all of them. Plus whatever else he could find.

Gerald pulled him away from the noisy crowd, his arm hanging over Arnold's shoulder as he leaned in to talk to him.

"Look, Arnold, I know you and Helga just say you're friends…"

"_Arnold likes Helga…"_

"Hey shut up! Leave my main man alone, you hear? Anyways, Arnold," Gerald continued, leaning closer. "You have a tendency not to know you like a girl until you're crazy about them. I saw you do it! Ruth, Lila, Jamie, Lila, Marcie, Lila…"

"Okay, enough about Lila," Arnold scoffed, downing the last of his beers. His face felt funny, and he tapped it absent-mindedly as Gerald spoke.

"And now, I see it happening with Helga. Now you can tell me you don't like her but here are facts; _I_ think you like her, _Sid_ thinks you like her, _Stinky and Harold_ think you like her, man, all that's left is you. And Helga is a _fine girl_, she is, you know it!" Gerald said, patting Arnold on the back. "Don't be afraid of feelings you have now that you would've hated to have six years ago," he said, trying to sound almost prophet like. Arnold laughed. He didn't exactly _mean_ to laugh, but it had happened.

"Look, Gerald," Arnold started, at which moment Phoebe came bounding out all excited like.

And then Gerald was gone, blissfully unaware of anything around him, including his best friend, thanks to Phoebe. If Arnold hadn't wanted to talk to him, he would have thought it very sweet. Scowling, Arnold made his way back over to the other boys, determined not to talk about Helga. Thankfully, they were off topic, and Arnold felt his mood rise higher and higher with every moment, with every sip of alcohol. Through his own fuzzy-headedness, he could see everyone else getting drunker too. Phoebe, who had barely had anything from her bottle of vodka and sprite, was laughing incredibly loudly at everything Gerald said. And Gerald, in turn, was talking incredibly loudly at Phoebe. Harold, Stinky and Sid seemed to be swaying a little, all of them laughing like the rest.

_*Party Queens! If you wanna be seen take a shit where you sleep, and smile real wide for the Pa-pa-pa-pa-paparazzi! *_

"I _love_ this song!" Arnold exclaimed suddenly at the music coming through the living room door and onto the terrace.

He didn't exactly know why he said it. He hadn't meant too, as he didn't love the song at all. He had heard it a couple times, but that was all. And then he started dancing.

At first, he meant to stop immediately. But upon seeing the laughter his dancing caused his friends, even Gerald and Phoebe were looking over at him, laughing, he decided to continue. Even if they were laughing _at_ him not _with_ him, he was having fun. The alcohol buzzed in his brain. He felt silly, a little foolish, but he was having fun, so he chose not to care.

Before he even knew what was happening next, Helga was in front of him.

"Helga!" he exclaimed excitedly. He hadn't realised how much he had wanted to see her. "When did you get here?" he asked her, feeling his grin widen.

"I got here with Phoebe…" she said, but Arnold wasn't listening. With one swift motion he had a hold of her hand and was pulling her closer.

"Dance with me!" he exclaimed even more excitedly, and Helga fell onto him, quickly pulling herself back up and laughing as he spun her around, laughing every time she stumbled thanks to his foolishness.

"Alright, football head," she said at last, pushing him off her. "There's a dance space inside for dancers, why don't you dance there?"

"Will you dance with me?" Arnold asked, panting. Helga raised an eyebrow at him and Arnold could feel snickering eyes on him, and suddenly he could feel himself turning bright red.

"I…I mean… what I meant was…" he stammered, and Helga laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Not usually a drinker, eh?" her eyes were kind. Arnold looked at her, they were just about the same height now, and her blue eyes gazed into his, a smile placed delicately on her lips. Arnold laughed sheepishly, placing a hand on the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Never done it before, actually," he said, and Helga beamed at him.

"Actually, I think I could get some weed right now, if you guys want some," Sid said suddenly behind them, and they all swivelled to face him. The silence hung in the air for a moment before quietly he added "…it was just a suggestion,"

Helga was nudging Arnold, and he looked up at her. But she wasn't looking at him, and instead nodded over to where her gaze was resting. Dazedly, Arnold followed her gaze and landed on Gerald and Phoebe. They were standing awfully close, smiling goofily. Arnold was basically holding his breath waiting as, eventually, the couple leaned in and kissed for the first time.

"Well, about time," Helga grinned beside him, and he looked around at her. He had a goofy smile on his face too, he was happy for Gerald. Gerald had liked Phoebe for almost a year now, but hadn't said anything because being single was _wicked!_ (Not that anything worth talking about ever happened in his oh-so-cool single life)

"So, Helga," Arnold continued now that Harold and Stinky had followed Sid to 'observe' the drug and Gerald and Phoebe were preoccupied, "how about that dance?" he asked her, and watched her face fall, and her eyes glaze over. Arnold waited a few seconds but Helga still didn't respond, and he could tell she was someplace very far off, the same way he often found himself far off, only he could see sadness welling deep within her eyes.

"…Helga?" he asked quietly, and she seemed to snap out of her daydreams, and forced a smile at him.

"…actually, football head, I'm not really in the mood to dance right now," she said shakily, and Arnold shrugged.

"Okay, well, why don't we find someplace to talk? I think I could use a sit-down, anyway," Arnold offered, and Helga smiled, a real smile, but a sad smile none the less. They made their way back through the foyer and upstairs to the bedrooms, Arnold snaking yet another drink from the punch bowl (he didn't know why) and finding a wonderful, delicate guest bed for them to sit on.

"So, Arnoldo, how do you like being drunk?" Helga asked, and Arnold shrugged.

"Well, at first I liked it, but now I don't so much. My head feels funny,"

"Haha, yeah, it'll do that to you," Helga grinned, laying down on the bed and tugging her short-shorts down lower. They sat in silence for a time, just content to be with their own thoughts, when Arnold realised he had been staring at Helga's legs the whole time.

Embarrassed, he looked away so quickly it caused Helga to sit up again.

"What's up, football head?" she smiled, and Arnold fiddled with his cup, drinking from it unsteadily.

"Uh… well, Helga, have you ever been so sure of something your whole life, and then someone comes along and suddenly everything you know is shattered into a million pieces and suddenly you find yourself not knowing what to believe anymore?" he asked somewhat shakily, looking over into her big blue eyes. _Wow, they're so big and… blue._

"Well, I guess I'd be lying if I said no," she said at last. Her face had fallen again, and Arnold placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Helga… is everything okay?" he asked, and she shook her head, smiling.

"Sure, everything is great. Why were you asking me if I was unsure of something, Arnold?" she asked, and Arnold supressed a groan. Just like Helga, change the subject to avoid the question.

"Well," Arnold started, deciding to go along. "I… I don't really know how to say this without it coming out wrong, but… you know Phoebe and Gerald?"

"…yes, Arnold, I know Phoebe and Gerald,"

"Well, Phoebe and Gerald are Phoebe and Gerald, right?"

"…Right…"

"And you and me are you and me, right?"

"Arnold, what in _god's_ name are you trying to tell me?" Helga finally snapped, clearly exasperated. Arnold coughed uncomfortably. He didn't know what he was trying to say, even. He wanted to talk about it though. He wanted to say something to someone, that maybe Gerald was right; maybe he did have feelings for Helga.

"I…I don't feel so well…" was all he finally managed to say, and as his stomach churned he realised how true that statement was. And before he could do anything else, he had spilt his drink and was on the floor.

"Arnold!" Helga was by his side in an instant, and he looked up at her, smiling.

"Huh, guess I lost my balance," he said, trying to pull himself up but his stomach heaved angrily.

"Ugh, Helga, I think I drank too much," he grumbled, and she laughed, pushing the hair off his face and re-adjusting his silly little cap.

"Come on, football head, let me help you onto the bed so you can go to sleep," she smiled, and he shook his head.

"It's not that I'm tired, I just… can't do anything," he grumbled, and Helga laughed, heaving him up and back onto the sheets.

"It's alright, Arnold, we've all be there," she said, fluffing his pillows as he snuggled in.

"Helga?"

"Yeah Arnold?"

"Will you stay and keep me company? I don't want to ruin your chance to party or anything, I just…"

"No, Arnold, it's not a problem," Helga said kindly, and Arnold grinned at her as she settled onto the bed across from him. "I've become aware that I'm not really ready for this anyway," she said, and Arnold frowned.

"Ready for what?"

"Hmm? Oh, nothing Arnold," she lied, and Arnold sighed, pulling himself a little more upright so he could look at her properly.

"Whatever you say, Helga…"

The two of them talked a while, as the evening stretched on and on and the music downstairs got softer and softer as more and more people left the party. And the more the party went on, the more sober Arnold felt, and the more he and Helga laughed. Around twelve o'clock Helga finally pulled herself off the mattress.

"Well, you look like you're about to fall asleep, football head, so I'll see you in the morning. Do you need anything before I go? A glass of water?" she offered, and Arnold shook his head, reaching forward and grabbing her hand.

"I just wanted to thank you, Helga. For taking such good care of me. For always taking care of me," Arnold muttered, already he could feel his eyelids drooping, and, he thought, through his haze, that he could see something in Helga smile more warmly than she had ever smiled before, but on the outside she just gave his hand a squeeze and made to leave.

Arnold never would be able to explain his next action. Without ever letting her loosen her grasp, he pulled her forward and kissed her.

It only lasted a second before he realised his mistake and pulled away.

"Uh, I. I, uh. Erm. See, Helga…" he tried to explain, but even to himself he had no idea why he had been so impulsive. Helga's face was an array of confusion, bewilderment, and, was it fear? He couldn't tell, but he let go of her hand quickly.

"I'm sorry, it was a drunken mistake," he mumbled, and Helga, seeming to regain her composure, leaned forward and gave him a light kiss on the cheek.

"What was that for?" Arnold asked, and Helga began to walk away.

"It was a thankyou kiss, Arnold,"

"What do you have to be thanking me for? I really didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable…"

"No, not about that, you dope," she said, lingering at the doorway. "It was a thank you for… for always taking care of me, too," her voice was unsteady, and this time Arnold could clearly see the fear she felt about it. Even though she was a nicer person, her shields always remained high, and he was witness to one of the rare moments where it was down. He smiled at her warmly, suddenly realising he didn't want her to leave but his exhaustion told him he would be asleep in a matter of minutes.

"You're welcome, Helga," he murmured as she turned off the lights and shut the door. Arnold laid awake for a short time longer, calming the butterflies, his mind whirring, as finally, he drifted into slumber.

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><p><strong>AN: Oh my god, Arnold totally just kissed Helga. You know you're all excited about the eventuating romance that's coming. But what of Helga's visions of the past every time something that reminds her of what happened? What will she do? Will Arnold be able to continue ignoring Helga's obvious sadness? What will he do about his confusing feelings?**

**The more reviews I get, the more enthusiastic I'll be about writing more, so the sooner you'll find out. ;D**


	4. Chapter 4: Wicked Party Part Two

**A/N: Hellllooooooo beautiful people of ff! Here I am! Next instalment of HA! right here, delivered straight to your computer. Unfortunately, the next chapter might be a while. I have exams and assignments GALORE over here, so, unless I use HA! as a procrastination, you might have to wait for the summer holidays.**

**That's right. Summer holidays. It's spring right now, and come December it'll be summer. What'cha gonna do?**

**WARNING: Anyone who has read this far shouldn't really need a warning. It's not so bad yet, but look out next chapter!**

**_Disclaimer: **I do not own HA!, although I think the people that do are better off not knowing this story exists, don't you?**_**

****ENJOY!****

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><p>Helga rushed downstairs, a mass confusion of emotions clinging to her like foil. Only one thing was going through her mind. <em>Arnold just kissed me<em> she said to herself over and over as she frantically searched for Phoebe. True, she had kept her secret about Arnold under wraps for so long, but hey, Phoebe already knew, and she had to tell _someone_. This was too big not to talk about, and with Dr. Bliss gone, Phoebe would have to do.

Finally, after what felt like _hours_ of searching she found her best friend on the couch with Gerald. Without so much as a word, Helga had a hold on her arm and was dragging her outside someplace quiet.

"Helga, what on earth are you doing? I'm trying to…"

"Arnold kissed me,"

"He… he _what?"_ Phoebe exclaimed, readjusting her glasses.

"He kissed me Phoebe. Just then. Just then, he kissed me. Kissed me. Right then. Arnold,"

"Yes, Helga, I understood you," Phoebe said, placing a hand on Helga's shoulder to calm her down.

"Well… what does it mean?"

"Oh, gosh, I don't know Helga. Usually when people kiss each other it means they like one another, right?"

"Right, usually, but there's an excuse for drunkenness, right?"

"Helga, please, calm down," Phoebe tried to soothe, but Helga couldn't calm down. Too many things were swimming through her mind to be calm.

"I can't calm down, Phoebe. Everything is messed up. Over ten years of obsession and suddenly, with absolutely no warning, a kiss? Phoebe, what am I supposed to make of this? Tell me!" She almost yelled, but Phoebe simply gave her a warm smile to cheer her up.

"Don't worry, Helga. Everything will sort itself out. You probably just need to talk to Arnold about it, it'll be fine!" she beamed, and Helga slumped her shoulders.

"Yeah, maybe, if he remembers it,"

"Helga, Arnold was drunk, but he wasn't _that_ drunk. Was it any good?"

"Good?" Helga repeated, thinking back. The softness of Arnolds lips, the smell of his hair, his breath, the tightness of his grip around her hand as he pulled her in closer, green eyes closing only moments before his lips pressed against hers…

"Yeah," Helga sighed, the memory sending her further and further into confusion. "It was good," she dreamed, before looking back to Phoebe and blushing slightly.

"Heh, well, anyway, you'd better go back and find Gerald. And I want details, in the morning!" Helga said, ushering Phoebe back in the house. Phoebe gave her a smile over her shoulder, winking as she did.

"And I guess this conversation never happened?"

"You know it, Pheebs," Helga tried to smile, and Phoebe nodded before weaving her way into the crowd to find Gerald.

Helga hadn't particularly wanted Phoebe to go, but she was getting nowhere with her. She needed to vent, that was all she knew. She looked around the party. Rhonda was nowhere to be seen, not that she really wanted to talk to Rhonda anyway, Nadine was with all her science-geek friends, not that she wanted to talk to her either…

As Helga continued scanning the crowd, she realised there was absolutely no one she was interested in speaking too. Instead, she rushed upstairs to Rhonda's room, knocking loudly on the door before swinging it open.

A mess of exclamations emitted the moment the door swung open, and Helga heard scrambling in amongst the bed, most likely a desperate search for clothes, and Helga grabbed her bag before slamming the door behind her and running out to the balcony patio, where she knew it would be quiet and peaceful.

Once outside, Helga turned on the lights and settled in a chair by the small coffee table. The balcony was on the other side of the house, but still well within earshot of the noise downstairs. She knew, at least, that she shouldn't be bothered out here, and the yellow couch by the door would do for sleeping, she decided.

Carefully, Helga rummaged through her bag and pulled out two books; a pink and a blue one, and a pen. Quickly checking behind her to ensure no one was around, she opened the pink one and began writing.

**So new, and everything is crazy.**

**My love taunts me, that is all I know**

**For years, life grieved me as we were enemies.**

**The closer we became friends, the happier I felt.**

**But it was always just a game, a laugh, nothing serious ever to happen**

**And in ways that was worse than being enemies.**

**I was there to guide him through all his heart aches. Did he ever know how I felt during that time?**

**Does he know now?**

**At times I think he does.**

**At times I think he has known ever since that moment atop the FTI roof. Or was it just suspicion I read?**

**Now, all I know is that the idol of my daydreams has kissed me.**

**And I don't know what to make of it. He was drunk, and a male and I cannot deny that men have a tendency to let their testosterone get the better of them. I learnt that all too well, didn't I? And what now, do I speak to him about it? Wait for him to speak to me?**

**And what if he does like me? I am so unworthy for him. Especially after what happened.**

**Oh Arnold, will I ever be happy in regards to you?**

**Why do I only see this kiss going no place but downhill?**

**No pun intended, of course.**

…**unfortunately.**

Helga placed the pen down and closed the book. It wasn't poetry yet, but at least it was something. She hadn't written in Arnold's book since the Ryan was all of what, two weeks ago, was it?

Helga's posture slouched further and further as she realised, since the stroke of midnight, it had been two weeks exactly. Tears threatened at her eyes and she quickly opened the blue book, burying the pink one deep inside her bag once more. Her pen hovered over the page a moment before she set it down.

**It almost seems like it'll never be right. Will I ever stop seeing things? Every time something happens I'm sent into spirals. Even a dress sends me awry. Every time a memory floods into my mind I feel like I die a little inside. Every day I remember a little more than before, something he said to me, the way his arm felt draped around me. Every day, the haze clears a little more and I can see a little clearer.**

**But I wish it wasn't so. I don't want to remember it, a thing about it. I just wish it was gone and buried, forgotten fore****ver in the depths of time. After all, no one knows about it, and so the moment I die, the moment Ryan dies, the secret will be buried away with us.**

**I wonder if Ryan thinks about it like I do. I mean, of course it's not like I do. The man is obviously a monster. Of course he doesn't slink about avoiding the gazes of women who even slightly look like me. Chances are he doesn't even remember a thing about me. Perhaps he's moved on to other women targets and abandoned me in his mind for good. And in that case, I hate myself for not doing something immediately. Not doing something now. But I know the rules, the idea. I'm a Pataki, and what do we do with our problems? We sweep them under the rug.**

**Besides, I'm becoming more and more aware that it was nothing but my own fault. I shouldn't have let him buy me so many drinks. I shouldn't have been stupid and let him charm me. I'm shouldn't have worn such a **_**slutty dress!**_** I definitely deserved what I got, didn't I?**

**More and more is coming. I remember how we met, clearly. He spilled drink on my slutty, stupid dress, (I have to wonder if it was a planned event) and he bought me what, a thousand more drinks to make up for it? He laughed at what I said, kissed my cheek, took me dancing. Then what? I know we left thanks to the bouncers, made it to his house somehow…**

**Oh, I don't know.**

**But it's become much worse. What was supposed to be the best thing ever, a kiss from the man I could never stop loving, and a kiss **_**from him**_**, not a kiss from me to him, a kiss **_**from**_** him, and I'll admit, at the time, I was happy. He was kissing me. But then Ryan came back. The feel of Ryan on my lips, the smell of beer on Arnold a reminder to the smell of bourbon on Ryan.**

**I hate him. I hate myself.**

**Oh Arnold, will you only help me through this? I need him, oh how I hope the kiss doesn't ruin a thing. How I hope we can be friends forever. The same way you helped me on the very first day of preschool, your umbrella protection from the rain, the way I need you to help me now.**

**A thought occurred to me; Ryan spilt bourbon all down my dress. He practically soaked it, I remember that part so clearly now. And Arnold, he went out of his way to keep my dry.**

**I'm still soaked, and it's raining. But at least I have Arnold and his umbrella.**

Helga set down the pen once more, and stared at the page.

What was that? That last line. Arnold wasn't supposed to appear in Ryan's book, but there he was a little light on an otherwise dark page. Helga kept staring, was this… was this the road to recovery?

Helga checked the time, almost two o'clock. Gradually, she packed her book back into her bag and curled herself up on the big yellow couch, hugging the bag for comfort, a decorative throw serving her as a blanket from the bitter cold.

Helga did her best to sleep, but couldn't. She wasn't tired, but she really didn't want to party.

All she could think about was Ryan, and the kiss from Arnold. The thoughts consumed her in a swirl of panicking colours, keeping her awake until the sun began hinting at rising hours later.

And when she did sleep it was full of nightmares. A looming face above hers as sweat trickled down a veiny neck and splashed onto her skin. The smell of his sweat and cologne flashed through her mind, not just as she dreamt, but well into her waking hours the next day.

She might be on the road to recovery, but she had a long way to go yet.

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><p><strong>AN: a shorter chapter than normal, isn't it? I feel obliged to say that it isn't just men who can't control their testosterone, women can rape people too, and men can be raped. Just wanted to make sure no one would get angry.**

**And now _you_ should feel obliged to review. Go on. Button is right there. Do it.**

**P.S. Fan fiction appears to be experiencing a little trouble, hopefully this is all okay.**


	5. Chapter 5: Confusion

**A/N: Hey everybody! Sorry it took a while. And also sorry this chapter is a little scrappy. I didn't want to keep you waiting but I have an exam and I had to study... Ugh. Anyway, here is the next chapter, and I apologise, it isn't as juicy as I thought it would be. Juice will come soon, promise.**

**I mean, this is juicy, but so much more juice to come. OH THE JUICE.**

_**Disclaimer: I do not own HA!**_

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><p>Arnold woke up in a haze, lazily pulling his arm in front of his face to read the time. It was still early, only just after six. The sunlight streamed through the window above his head, however, forcing him to pull himself upright to escape the harsh rays. His head felt a little slow, and his stomach a little queasy, but otherwise he felt fine. From what he had heard of hangovers, this seemed like a pretty good one, he thought.<p>

As Arnold began to silently make his way around the house, past all the sleeping bodies that lay askew around the home, more and more memories came back to him. Everyone making fun of him for liking Helga, him dancing like an idiot in front of Helga, him staying up late with Helga and having one of the best conversations he'd ever had, and then, of course, kissing Helga.

As Arnold reached the stairway he placed a hand to his forehead. He kissed Helga. Why on _earth_ did he kiss Helga? Still in a sleep filled haze, Arnold decided better of walking home just yet, and instead made his way around the back of the house, where Rhonda's parents' bedroom was, along with where he assumed Rhonda has stashed all the more expensive things she didn't want people breaking at the party. Slowly he made his way to the mini-fridge that was kept in the upstairs lounge, grabbed bottled water, and began to make his way to the balcony.

He had been to Rhonda's house a number of times before in his life, from the days at PS118 all through to right now. She held at least one party a year, and as a result he knew his way around easily.

Not bothering to be as quiet as everyone was downstairs/on the other side of the house; he pulled the screen door open and stepped out, opening the water bottle and drinking it gratefully. He turned around, expecting to sit down on the yellow couch he had sat on with Gerald so many times before, when he spotted Helga, at last.

Her face was twisted in what he could only describe as agony, which isn't exactly what people are supposed to look like when they sleep. Her eyes were clenched shut tight, her hands gripped tightly around a poor excuse for a blanket if there ever was one, her lip red and swollen as though she had spent the night chewing on it.

Arnold reached out a hand to her, expecting to wake her, and comfort her, the way he always did whenever he saw someone in trouble. But just before his hand was on her shoulder he felt it twitch and he snatched it back. Did he really want to wake the girl he had kissed and deal with all that right now? He didn't know what he thought about the kiss yet, he had barely given himself time to think about it. He decided better of it, it looked like Helga had only gotten to sleep moments ago, so he left her to sleep. He watched her a while longer, half expecting her to wake up at any moment and catch him watching her (which in itself should have been incentive not to watch her…) when he noticed her backpack on the ground beside her. It looked like she had it with her on the couch when she slept, but now it lay on the ground, contents spilled on the floor. Carefully he began placing the items back inside her pack for her, a toothbrush, hairbrush, make-up, and two books.

Arnold hesitated a moment before placing the books back into her bag. He had seen her write in the pink one a number of times, not so much recently, but a lot overall. She had warned him when he asked about it that if he ever looked in it without her permission she would deny any further friendship then and there. He had asked her, once, if she would ever let him look inside, but she just shrugged and said "I'm thinking it's unlikely, but maybe one day, if the time is right,"

Not wanting to ruin the right time or risk the friendship, Arnold let his curiosity demise as he placed the book back into Helga's bag. But he hesitated a second time on the blue book. He had never seen it before, and he could tell by the crumpling of pages that Helga hadn't written in much of it. He began to open it, letting the pages that had clung to the cover fall back into their resting place as he pulled the cover further and further back. As the pages with writing fell, he got a glimpse of a few words, before quickly shutting it and placing it back in the bag. It wasn't like him at all to read other people's personal things. Why, he had gone to incredible lengths once to protect a parcel from his housemates, why on earth was he giving in now?

Luckily, he hadn't read anything important anyway. Quietly, he placed the bag upright against the couch before making his way back inside, finding an oversized, warm, woolly blanket and taking it back outside. He may not have wanted to wake her, but he didn't want her to be cold, which she clearly was.

As Arnold laid the blanket across Helga, instantly seeing some of the distress diminishes, he couldn't help but stare at her. He knelt by the couch as he pulled the blanket in around her face, before pushing back and looking at her a moment longer.

He had kissed this woman last night.

Carefully, terribly frightened she would wake, Arnold pulled the hair off Helga's face, smiling before leaning in and giving her a soft kiss on the cheek.

It was definitely time to go, Arnold thought as he clambered onto his bike and pedalled fast all the way home, where, thankfully, his Grandma was up and already baking pancakes for a 'day at ranch', which Arnold scoffed before finding his way into his room. Most of the household was up, and they racketed downstairs noisily, but the noise was mostly shut out in the safety of his room. He started contemplating what his kiss to Helga might have meant, but he fell asleep long before he made any progress.

It was a text message that woke him up, from Gerald, asking if he could come over. Arnold agreed, and within moments he and Gerald were on Arnolds couch, a plate of cookies between them and a glass of milk each.

"So Gerald, how'd things go with Phoebe?"

"Oh, you know, not too bad. Damn, boy, that girl is a _good_ kisser! If I had known, I would've kissed her _long_ ago! Anyway, I didn't ask her out, if that's what you're interested in. It just wasn't the right place, you know?" Gerald said, and Arnold nodded, rubbing his forehead slightly.

"Yeah… so… I… Um…"

"You…?"

"I… I kissed Helga last night,"

"_You_ did _what!"_ Gerald exclaimed, jumping up from his seat a little.

"I didn't _mean_ to do it. At least… I don't _think_ I meant too…"

"Alright, let's back up a step. Tell me everything that happened,"

"Uh… well, I drank too much, and Helga helped me to bed, and we stayed up and talked for hours, Gerald, _hours!_ About everything! It was really nice. Then, when we decided it was time for bed, I just… I kissed her, Gerald. It only lasted a second," Arnold said, and Gerald slumped back on the couch.

"What did she say?"

"She kissed me,"

"She what?"

"No, not like that, on the cheek. To let me know it was okay and she wasn't angry, I think," Arnold said, trying to remember every detail. Gerald pulled himself upright and placed a hand on Arnold's shoulder.

"Well, Arnold, there's only one thing to do. And that's talk to Helga about it," he said, and Arnold sighed, slumping his shoulders.

"Yeah, I guess, but… I don't even know what it means! Why did I kiss her Gerald?"

"Because… maybe you like her?"

Arnold sighed, sliding down the couch. "Maybe,"

"Maybe?"

"Maybe,"

"Well, that's farther than we've gotten before," Gerald said, and Arnold looked around at him.

"What am I supposed to say to Helga?"

"I dunno man, just ask her how she feels about it, and be honest with her. She's a good gal these days, she'll probably help you out herself," Gerald joked, leaning over and passing Arnold's brick of a phone to him.

"Invite her around,"

"Now?"

"_YES, NOW!"_ Gerald basically yelled, and Arnold quickly sent Helga a text.

"There, I sent her a text to come over,"

"Good. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off home. I don't want to be interfering with you _love birds_,"

"Gerald…"

"Alright, fine. Good luck man,"

"Thanks," Arnold said, staring at his hands. Within a couple of minutes Helga texted back telling him she would be there soon, on her way home, and Arnold started pacing.

What was he going to say to her? That he _maybe_ liked her? That he _did_ like her? That he _didn't _like her?

Maybe inviting her over was a bad idea. He decided, only moments before he heard her familiar footsteps on the stairs to his room, that he was simply going to apologise for his behaviour last night and see what happened.

"Hey, Football head," Helga greeted as she walked into the room. She looked a little tired, and her hair was pulled back into a messy pony tail as she walked in, dropping her bag on the floor and sitting down. "What's up?"

"Well… I guess I just wanted to apologise. For everything I did last night," he mumbled, and Helga raised an eyebrow that sent Arnolds stomach into a mess of butterflies. How could one woman make him feel so nervous?

It wasn't because he was expecting her to start yelling at him sometime soon, was it?

"Oh, don't worry about it Arnoldo. I've seen worse," she said kindly, and Arnold forced a smile at her.

"Yeah, heh, I guess I just had a bit too much to drink,"

"Way too much," Helga corrected when Arnold's phone vibrated. He pulled it out and looked at the message from Gerald.

_**Ask her about the kiss!**_ How did he know?

"So, uh, Helga…"

"Yeah?"

"About… last night… when I kissed you," he started, and Helga's face flushed red.

"Oh… you remember that, huh?"

"Yeah, I remember basically everything." Arnold started, sighing. "And, I just wanted to explain what I was doing. I… I guess I… I wanted… I…"

"Arnold, it's okay," Helga said gently. Her eyes looked sadder than ever, and Arnold could swear he felt his heart tear up at the mere sight. "You're a guy. Guys just do stuff like that. You don't have to explain, you were drunk. It's easy to make mistakes. Anyway, maybe I should go home. I need to get some more sleep…" Helga said, moving to stand up, when Arnold felt something inside him snap.

"But it wasn't a mistake," he blurted out, and Helga stared at him. Quickly, Arnold tried to find a way to recover. "I mean, that is… well, Gerald thinks you and I… well, what I'm trying to say is…" he muttered as he tried to find the words.

"Arnold!" Grandpa's voice interrupted from downstairs. "You're little friend with the pigtails is here!" he called, and Arnold frowned. What friend with pigtails?

"Oh, Arnold, it's ever so nice to see you again. And Helga! What a delight!" Lila said as she stepped through the door, and Arnold gaped.

Lila had moved away a couple of years ago. She had grown up a lot in those two years. Her hair was longer, her eyes sweeter…

After a long pause, Helga coughed.

"Right, well, I'm off. See you, football head," she muttered, turning to leave. For a moment, she hesitated in the doorway, as though expecting Arnold to say something to stop her, but he couldn't say anything, or do anything. His feet were glued to the floor.

What was Lila doing in his room? The woman he had practically been in love with once upon a time?

The front door slammed loudly as Helga exited, snapping Arnold back to reality.

"Lila, what are you doing here?"

"Father has come to town for a month or so for business, and I thought I'd come see you, and admit to you, that, well, gosh it's ever so embarrassing… I wanted to tell you that I regret never going out with you," Lila mumbled, and Arnold gaped as Lila moved forward and pushed herself into his arms.

Over Lila's shoulder he stared at the door Helga had exited only a moment ago. He had almost told Helga he liked her, completely spontaneously. And, to be truthful, he still wasn't sure how he felt. But Lila was in his arms, the woman he longed to hold for so long, and he wasn't going to let what he might feel for Helga step in the way as he hugged Lila tightly back.

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><p><strong>AN: See? Juice. But more juice to come, just as soon as I finish my exams I'll be able to write way more often, that is, assuming I'm not forever at the beach. I hope you enjoyed it, Review for me! ;D**


	6. Chapter 6: Aftermath

**A/N: OH MY GOODNESS IT HAS BEEN SO LONG SINCE I'VE UPDATED I'M SORRY. Anyway. Here is the next chapter. I'm sorry I didn't upload it sooner, I've been in a really bad place and hadn't felt like doing... anything, really. But, now I'm feeling a bit better I'm back to what I love- writing. And so here is the next chapter. Hopefully it is long and good enough to satisfy you. I know exactly what goes on in the next chapter, so that one shouldn't be too much farther away either. Anyway, enjoy this chapter! Love you guys. Get ready for promised juice.**

**_Disclaimer: __I do not own HA! or the song by Kesha. Whatever song it was. Ugh._**

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><p>Helga stormed out of Arnold's house more angry than she could ever remember being. She was only half way home when she realised that was the exact opposite of the place she wanted to be. An angry Miriam missing her alcohol, an angry bob about beepers or whatever, and both of them missing Olga…<p>

Helga bit her lip, a little surprised at how much it hurt, as she yanked out her phone and grumpily texted Phoebe, telling her she would be meeting her at her place as soon as possible. When she got to Phoebe's she was asleep, and, too exhausted to wake her up to talk about it, Helga fell asleep right next to her in a moment.

She awoke about an hour later, Phoebe shaking her awake.

"Helga! When'd you get here?"

"Dunno," Helga replied, rubbing her eyes as she sat up dazedly. "I fell asleep the second I arrived," she grumbled. She already felt a lot less angry. Still, she felt the rage building inside her. How _dare_ Arnold…

"So, Helga, what did you come over for? I would have messaged back, but I was half asleep when I got your text…"

"Arnold," Helga snapped, throwing the sheets off her. "He…he…" she began, not sure how to continue.

"…kissed you?"

"No! Well, yes, but this morning, I went to his house, and he was _about_ to tell me something _important_ in _relation_ to the kiss, but then who comes in the door? _Li-la,"_

"Lila? What's she doing back in town?"

"Who the _hell_ cares, Phoebe? She's probably over there right now, diving into Arnold's pants…"

"Helga!"

"Oh, grow up, Pheebs. What am I supposed to do?"

"Well, I'm not sure there's anything you _can_ do right now," Phoebe said, placing a hand on Helga's shoulder. "Just wait through the weekend. Maybe he needs space to think about it, too. Who knows what's happening? Did she say how long she would be around for?" Phoebe asked, and Helga grunted, thinking.

"A month or two. I dunno," she answered, and Phoebe sighed.

"Well, they're hardly going to bother dating if it'll only be for a month or two, are they?"

"They might! Arnold's a good guy, he might try long distance!" Helga yelled, and Phoebe ushered her to be quiet. Helga sighed and placed a hand to her forehead.

"Sorry Pheebs. I'm just angry, because it sounded like Arnold was going to say something important. Something I might have wanted to hear for a long time before Lila came in. Cheer me up by telling me about you and Gerald," she said, smiling, and Phoebe grinned to herself. Helga tried to smile as Phoebe spoke, but she didn't care a whole lot about what she was saying. Who cared if Gerald used tongue?

Helga stayed at Phoebes the night, and went home the next day, if only because she had school on Monday. The whole weekend she found herself staring at her phone, waiting for Arnold to text her. Of course he didn't. She wondered if she could text him. She didn't.

Finally Monday morning came around and she was_ so_ not interested in going to school. All she could think about was how to approach Arnold. Should she confront him? Ask him about Lila? Ignore him? Pretend like nothing had happened? Tell him she loved him?

Yeah right.

By the time she got to school she still didn't have the answer. At least he and stupid Lila had gotten her mind off even stupider Ryan.

She didn't see Arnold for most of the day. She sat around with the girls, gloomily listening to them talk about who they hooked up with and who did what with who and all that other stuff that needs to be discussed after parties. Apparently Helga had burst in on Rhonda giving or receiving some sort of job when she had grabbed her bags.

It wasn't until the end of the day that Helga was finally driven to a classroom with Arnold. Ancient History, and she sat down next to him with a thud, her books hitting the desk so loudly Arnold actually jumped a little.

"Oh. Hi Helga, how are you today?" he asked a little too-politely, and Helga grunted.

"Yeah, what's it to you, foot-ball head?" she snapped, and Arnold frowned quickly at her.

"Hey, there's no need to be angry…" he started, and Helga rolled her eyes.

"Right, okay. So how's _Li-la?_" she asked a little sarcastically, and Arnold burrowed his brow further.

"Well, she's… why are you being so grumpy, Helga? Is everything okay?"

"Oh yeah, everything is just fine, Arnoldo. Just peachy," she grunted, flipping open her book and getting started on work. Arnold frowned and did the same, making the heading before turning back to Helga once more. Helga didn't know why she was acting like she was.

"So… you want to know about Lila?"

"Sure. Why the hell not,"

"Um… well. She says she'll be here for a month indefinitely. Her father is here on a business trip… if you're mad about the other day, I was just shocked to see her, I didn't mean to make you feel out of place…"

"Oh, get over yourself, Arnold," Helga grunted. "Like I care about that. I have bigger things to worry about than you getting naked with Lila," she said quietly as the teacher walked by. Arnold's eyes widened and he glared.

"Lila and I didn't get naked!" he hissed, and Helga rolled his eyes.

"Cool. Good luck with that," she responded, turning back to her books. Arnold groaned and turned back to his own books, shaking his head and letting his blonde hair fall around his face. Helga stole a look at him to ensure he wasn't looking, and pulled out her pink book.

**Oh, Helga, why do you do this? You love him so, and as soon as you know he doesn't care for you,****as soon as **_**progress**_** starts being made you go backwards? Stop it now, Helga. Don't turn back into the nine year old who was so afraid of feelings she hurt the man she loved. Don't be that girl. Remember everything Dr Bliss taught you.**

Helga and Arnold sat in silence for the rest of the lesson, the whole time Helga wondering if maybe she should apologise. She knew she shouldn't be angry, really, but she, well, she just _was! _It wasn't fair. She put the pink book away and continued writing in her history book, not really paying attention to what she was doing, but rather trying to think of something else to say to Arnold. But, somehow, all she could think of was ways to be terrible to him. She came up with punching him, throwing things in his hair, telling him his oblong shaped head made him look funny…

_Why can't I think of something normal to say? _She yelled at herself in her mind when the bell went, and she gathered up her things and made her way out. As her and Arnold began to go their separate ways, she scowled at him.

"Well, catch ya later, football head," she spat, and Arnold groaned as she began to walk away.

"Helga, wait,"

She turned to face him. "What do you want?"

"To talk to you. Why are you acting so mean all of a sudden? I know you're not really like this…"

"Oh yeah? And how do _you_ know, Arnoldo?" _Stop it, Helga! Fix it!_ She yelled to herself as more and more harsh things came out of her mouth.

"Look, Helga, I don't know what's going on with you lately, or why you seem so sad all the time, but instead of pushing me away you could try letting me in," he said to her, and Helga felt herself falter a moment. She always loved Arnold, but sometimes she forgot why. It was times like these she remembered. His green eyes seemed to penetrate hers, his anger on the surface obvious but also a very obvious concern lying underneath it. That was the thing about Arnold, no matter what you did or said he always cared.

"Look… just forget about it. See you later, Arnold," she said sadly, and Arnold groaned behind her.

"Whatever you say, Helga,"

Helga walked home, her feet heavy. She didn't know why she was like this. She had been rude to all her friends all day, too. Something was definitely wrong with her, she decided. When she got home, Bob was yelling at Miriam who couldn't hear because she was asleep behind the couch. She went to make her way upstairs when Bob yelled to her.

"Young lady! Where do you think you're going?"

"Uh, to my room to do my homework?"

"Not right now you're not! Go get your mother up, she's been passed out for a while now," he grunted, and Helga groaned.

"Come on, Miriam, it's time you woke up," she said, nudging her mother and slapping her lightly on the hand to get her up.

"Oh, oh Helga dear, how was school?" Miriam muttered, pulling herself up.

"It was fine, Miriam. Come on, dad says you need to wake up,"

"Helga dear, would you make me a smoothie?"

"No, Miriam. You've had enough,"

"No, I _had_ had enough, but now I've slept it off I can have more," Miriam responded brightly, and Helga groaned, sitting her on the couch and directing her to the TV. As she switched it on the music channel came on, and Helga listened distantly as she cleaned up the mess Miriam had made in her drunken stupor.

'_Alright folks, that was Lady Gaga with her incredible poker face. Now, onto Kesha and her ticking tock!' _the presenter said on the show, and Helga grunted. She hated that kind of music. It wasn't until the music started that she remembered.

"_I __love__ this song!" drunken Helga exclaimed, already on the dance floor with Ryan._

"_Yeah, it's great!" he yelled back, smiling. They danced awfully close together, Ryan's hands on Helga's hips as she had her hands wrapped around his neck._

_*Tick tock, on the clock…*_

"_Hey, is there a reason those bouncers are looking at you funny?"_

_Helga looked behind her to where bouncers were eyeing her suspiciously. She grabbed onto Ryan's neck and pulled him closer._

"_I have a confession to make!" she had yelled, and he frowned at her, indicating 'what' with his hands. "I'm not actually 21" she said, and Ryan's eyes had widened as he looked over at the bouncers._

"_Uh, I think they're going to come over here," he yelled in her ear, and Helga bit onto her lip._

"_What do I do?" she yelled back as a bouncer began to make his way into the crowd. Ryan grabbed onto her arm tightly, a cheeky grin spreading across his face._

"_Run!" he yelled, and took off, Helga in tow. As soon as they began running the bouncers were after them, running close behind. Luckily Helga kept up with exercise, and apparently Ryan did too, because in a few blocks they had managed to outrun them._

"_Whew!" Ryan panted, leaning on his knees as he looked around. "We made it. Underage, huh?"_

_Helga blushed under the moonlight. She was sure that by now, her make-up would be smudged across her face and that her hair would be askew. It vaguely reminded her of the girl's sleepover party where she had tried to make herself beautiful but had ended up deciding a tomboy was so much more fun. She decided that now, too, as she grinned and wiped beneath her eyes, glad the run in the shoes she was wearing was over but still pleased from the adrenaline rush. Ryan looked around vaguely._

"_Hey, I think there's a park nearby. Care for a walk?" he asked kindly, and Helga grinned, feeling herself sway a little. Had she really just run all that way?_

"_Sure, I could go for a walk," she answered, smiling as he slipped his hand into hers and the two of them began to walk. After all, what did she have to lose?_

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><p>When Arnold finally made it to Lila's hotel, he was well and truly ready for a rest. "Oh, hello Arnold. How was school?" Lila asked cheerfully as Arnold walked into the room. He sighed and dropped his bag onto the floor before crossing Lila's hotel bedroom and flopping on the bed.<p>

"Yeah, it was okay. How was correspondence?"

"Oh, it was just wonderful Arnold," she answered, lying on the bed next to him and wrapping her arms around him. "The whole day I got to think about the fact I would soon be seeing you," she told him, nuzzling her face into his neck. Arnold couldn't help but smile as he pulled her closer. He hadn't spoken to her in a long time, so there was a lot about her that he needed to get to know again, but still, the sparks were there. He felt his stomach fill with butterflies as Lila told him about what she was learning about in class, about the charity work she was doing back at home. Still, in the back of his mind, he couldn't help but think of Helga. Why had she been acting that way? What if something was seriously wrong? She used to act mean all the time as a defence mechanism, so she couldn't be walked over by her peers the way her father walked all over her. What if it was the same thing? Should he go over there?

"Arnold, are you listening?" Lila asked incredulously, and Arnold coughed uncomfortably.

"Oh, sorry, I was someplace else,"

"Oh, Arnold, you're so funny," Lila giggled, and Arnold smiled to himself. Maybe it had just been a bad day for Helga and he was looking too much into it. If she was still upset the next day, he would try talking to her again. Even if she reacted badly, he thought he could get her to talk.

The next day Arnold didn't have class with Helga, but he went to seek her out at lunchtime. When he approached the table, Rhonda shrugged at Helga's empty seat.

"She's here today, I saw her come in, but we don't know where she is. She looked kind of mopey," she told him, and Arnold sighed heavily.

"Well, if you see her, could you tell her I'm looking for her?" he asked them, and Rhonda nodded.

"Oh, and Arnold, we heard that Lila was back in town," Rhonda slyly said as Arnold began to walk away. He stopped and turned back.

"Oh, yeah, she is. I'm sure she'd love to see all you guys again if you'd like," he offered, and Rhonda shook her head.

"Oh, it's not _that_ I'm interested in. I hear you and Lila are, well, a sort of _couple_ now?" she enquired, and Arnold shrugged.

"Well, yeah, I guess we kind of are," he answered, and Rhonda grinned.

"Good to know. Thank you Arnold, that will be all," she said delicately, and Arnold smiled awkwardly and walked away. He spent the rest of lunch trying to find Helga, but it wasn't until the very end that he found her. She was crouched up behind the dumpsters, well from sight, and had Arnold not been looking for her he never would have seen her. She was scribbling furiously in the little blue book he had found by her bag the night at Rhonda's, and, from where Arnold was standing, he could tell she had been crying. Quietly he approached her.

"Helga?"

"Jesus, football head, don't creep up on me like that!" Helga shouted, standing up. Already she looked back to normal, her eyes dry and the redness gone. How did she do that?

"What are you doing crouched behind the dumpster?"

"Minding my own business! It's a free country, isn't it?" she snarled, and Arnold frowned, looking sideways.

"Well, yeah, but… is everything okay Helga?" he asked, and Helga frowned.

"Of course everything is okay! Why wouldn't it be?" she snapped, and Arnold stepped back.

"Well, you're acting all mean again. You only act mean when…"

"Jeeze, how many times do I have to tell you, football head? I _am_ mean. I'm a terrible person and I'm okay with it," she snapped, and Arnold let his shoulders droop.

"Well, okay. Did you… want to come over later to do our homework?"

"Ha! Why would I want to come over to _yours_ football head? Besides, won't you be busy with _Li-la?_"

Arnold felt something inside him snap. Memories of all fourth grade, fifth grade, some of sixth grade were rushing back to him. He stood his ground and straightened himself up.

"Look, Helga, I don't know _why_ you're acting like this all of a sudden, but could you not? We're supposed to be friends. Why don't you just let me in?" he raged, and Helga took a step back, her eyes instantly welling with years. Arnold felt guilt riddle him crazy, and he took a step closer to her.

"Helga, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell…" he began, when the bell went for class.

"Forget it, Arnoldo," Helga snapped, wiping her eyes and barging past him. Arnold let his shoulders droop once more, and he watched her walk away. What he said hadn't been too mean, had it? It was clear she was angry with him, and as he began to make his own way to class he tried to think of what he could have done. He kissed her at Rhonda's. It hadn't seemed too big a deal before Lila. Was it because Helga hated Lila?

He sighed and went to class. Maybe he couldn't get Helga to talk after all. Maybe he didn't know her at all, like he thought he had. Maybe he was wasting his time trying to make whatever it was right. When he talked to Gerald about it, he seemed oddly distant and confused himself. For the next week, Helga and Arnold never spoke. She changed seats in history class, and avoided eye contact wherever possible. On the bright side, things seemed to be improving with Lila. He remembered why he had liked her all those times before; she was so kind and caring. When he told her about Helga, she just laughed.

"Oh, Helga, I remember her. She used to have the biggest crush on…" Lila began, before stopping herself and looking awkwardly at Arnold. "Heh, well, she told me she'd murder me if I ever told anyone who it was," she said, and Arnold raised an eyebrow. Lila coughed uncomfortably and continued. "Anyway, Helga was always a bully. Why are you letting her get to you?" she asked, and Arnold shrugged.

"I dunno. I guess… I guess I considered her one of my best friends… and now she's gone," he said sadly, and Lila smiled sadly at him.

"Hey, you still have me?" she said, and Arnold smiled, grabbing onto her hand.

"Yeah, I have you," he smiled warmly at her, and she gave him a small kiss on the lips before standing to choose a film. Arnold stayed on the bed, watching Lila. He wasn't drunk, and the kiss was clearly consensual by both parties. Why didn't he enjoy it as much as his random kiss with Helga? Why didn't he enjoy spending time with Lila as much as he enjoyed spending time with Helga? Why couldn't he cheer himself up about everything? As he and Lila watched a film on the couch, he found himself not really paying attention, but rather trying to organise his thoughts. He had almost told Helga he liked her. But now he definitely liked Lila. Still, he felt as though he should do something nice for Helga to cheer her up. After all, he had never given up on anyone before.

Across town Helga was sitting on the toilet. For once, her mind wasn't straying around Arnold and Lila, but was completely focused on Ryan as she stared at the white piece of toilet paper in her hand.

She was three days late.

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><p><strong>AN: DUN DUN DUNNNNNN.**

**What is going to happen? I'll bet you want to find out, right? Better review!**

(Seriously, though, the next chapter will be up soon. Promise.)


	7. Chapter 7: Results

**A/N: Okay, so... wow. Yeah. I'm a bad person for not doing this sooner. I have a really short attention span, okay! Rest assured when this is finished I'll be sticking to one shots. Only a couple more chapters to go now, though. Don't worry my friends, my beautiful readers. It will come to a close soon enough. Read it and review, and I will give you all some cake.**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold!, and the line about masks is from V for Vendetta. Cool. X_

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><p>Helga anxiously paced around her room. At first, being late hadn't bothered her too much. She had been a day late before, but never two days, or even three days late. What if she was pregnant? She bit her lip as she stopped by her bed and looked out the window anxiously. What should she do? Should she wait and see if it would come?<p>

Without thinking she grabbed the phone and began to dial Phoebe's number. Just as she hit the last number she realised what it meant, and slammed the phone back down on the hook. What was she thinking? To ask Phoebe what to do would cause a lot of questions to arise- ones which Helga was definitely not willing to answer. _I'll just have to buy a test,_ Helga finally told herself, grabbing her coat and beginning on her way downstairs. _Or I won't ever stop thinking about it._

When Helga finally made it to the pharmacy, she crept inside; looking around carefully to ensure no one she knew was around before she went in. The bell rang quietly as she pushed the door open, and the pharmacy assistant smiled at her pleasantly.

"Hello, how are you?"

"Fine, thanks," Helga lied, forcing a smile back.

"Can I help you find anything today?"

"A pregnancy test?" Helga answered a little hesitantly, expecting judgement from the lady. Instead, she smiled and walked with Helga up the aisle.

"These are our selections. They all have the same accuracy rate, so it's really just a preference of how to take the test. With this one you pee in a cup and put the stick in it, this one you pee on the stick yourself…" the lady went on, describing the minimal differences between the tests. Helga listened with one ear and kept the other open for any entering customers. If someone she knew came in she'd have to run and hide.

"As for the actual results," the lady went on, "if the test comes up positive it's positive, you're pregnant. It's possible the test might come up negative when you're still pregnant, but it's still very unlikely and only usually happens if the test is taken too close to conception. So, what do you think?" she asked politely, and Helga frowned.

"Uh, the purple one?" she guessed, pulling the box off the shelf. The lady smiled and nodded, walking with Helga back to the counter.

"Good choice. It's much nicer when there's a window displaying results than a couple lines on a stick. I should know, I have three kids," she said as she scanned the item.

"Three, huh? That's a lot. Is it all it's cracked up to be?" she asked, and the lady smiled fondly.

"Having kids is the best thing I ever did,"

Helga tried to smile, but instead handed over the money. Behind her she heard the bell ring as someone entered, and Helga turned to see who it was as the lady got her change.

"Oh, _hello_ Helga! What are you doing here? I'm just here buying tampons for… for…" Rhonda's eyes were already on the pregnancy test in front of Helga. Helga gulped and shoved it in her jacket pocket, grunting.

"Miss, your change!" the lady behind the counter said, and Helga grabbed it, thanking her and storming out. Rhonda came running onto the street after her.

"Helga, was that a _pregnancy _test I saw you buying?" Rhonda demanded, and Helga resisted growling.

"Yeah! So what if it is?" she scowled, and Rhonda's eyes widened.

"You… you mean you're…?"

"So what if I am! And besides, who gives you the right to go asking? I have an older sister and a mother, why do you automatically jump to it being me? Hey, I could even be buying it for _Phoebe_ for _Christ's sake!_ So why don't you mind your own business, Rhonda?" Helga snarled, turned and stormed off. When she stole a glance behind her she could already see Rhonda dialling away on her phone.

_Great._

Helga made it home in record timing and raced to the bathroom. She wasn't interested in dealing with Rhonda right now. She'd deal with that milestone when it came. No doubt everyone in her year already knew about the pregnancy test, and trusting Rhonda it would only be a matter of time before the entire school knew.

As Helga pulled down her pants she pulled out the instructions to the test. _Pee on stick mid-stream._

Simple enough. Helga followed the instructions and placed the stick by the bathroom sink as she washed her hands. She picked up the leaflet and continued reading. Two minutes to wait. Helga took the test into her room and lay on the bed, counting the seconds. It seemed as though the two minutes would never end, until finally it did, and Helga read the result.

Negative.

Helga laid back and exhaled deeply. What a relief. She looked at the test again to make sure it still read negative. When it did, Helga couldn't help but smile.

"Thank goodness," she muttered, tossing the test in the bin beside her. She felt like dancing, like singing, like vomiting and crying at the same time. She was so happy she wasn't pregnant, that Ryan wouldn't grow inside her and into a baby, but now she had a whole different ballgame to think about. With every breath another person could potentially be spreading the news of a bought pregnancy test by Helga Pataki. What was she going to do?

She heard Miriam stumble inside and decided to leave it for now. Monday would come soon enough, and by then any damage Rhonda was capable of causing would be done. She went downstairs and into the kitchen, where Miriam was mixing herself up another smoothie.

"Oh, hi Helga, how are you doing?"

"I'm okay Miriam. How was community service?"

"What? Oh right! I forgot all about it," Miriam laughed, placing her hand to her head and laughing to herself. "Well, I'm sure they'll understand," she said, and Helga huffed.

"Yeah, okay. Well I'll catch up with you later, then," she replied gloomily and made to leave.

"Helga dear, wait, is everything alright?" Miriam asked and Helga nodded.

"Sure. It's all great,"

"Would you like a smoothie, dear? You look like you could use one," Miriam offered, and Helga raised an eyebrow.

"Really?"

"Sure! Why don't you find a clean glass and I'll pour you one," she said brightly enough, and Helga smiled a little.

"Well… sure. I guess I could do with one," she replied, finding a clean glass and handing it to Miriam who poured her a drink. The two of them wandered into the living room to watch TV, Helga slowly sipping the incredibly strong smoothie on the way. Helga went to sit on the chair, leaving the couch to Miriam, but Miriam exclaimed out loudly at the gesture.

"What are you doing over there? Come sit on the couch with me, darling," Miriam insisted, and Helga rolled her eyes and did as she was told. For a time they were mostly silent, Miriam occasionally laughing at something on TV or making a comment of some sort. As Helga downed the last of the smoothie, the alcohol straight into her head, she stood to leave.

"Well, Miriam, I guess I have homework to do, so…"

"Wait, Helga, sit back down," Miriam said, grabbing Helga's arm and pulling her back onto the couch. "I know I haven't been the best mother there is… in fact I think everyone knows it. But you know I love you, right?" she asked, and Helga frowned.

"Well… yeah, of course I know Miriam,"

"And you know I love you just as much as I love Olga. I know your father and I don't act like we care about you the same, but we do. It was just that Olga wasn't planned. When I got pregnant your father and I were in such shock, but being newlyweds we assumed it was a blessing in disguise. Well, after she was born, she cried all the time, Bob was still starting out at the beeper company, and we were both so tired just _all_ the time. It looked like our marriage was breaking up. Then when Olga said her first words… it was like everything went back to how it was when we first got together. Everything was perfect. She saved our marriage, truly," Miriam slurred to Helga, who just blinked in reply.

"And then we had you. We figured if one child could bring us so much happiness, another was sure to do so. And you did. Everyday your father and I are thankful to you," she said, and Helga blinked at her again.

"Really?"

"Yes dear. You're our angel in disguise," Miriam smiled, and extended her arms, pulling Helga into a hug. "I don't know what we'd have done without you," she said, and Helga, surprising even herself, hugged Miriam back.

"I love you mum,"

"I love you Helga,"

A couple hours later, Bob Pataki came home from work.

"Miriam? Olga? You guys home?" he called out, and got no answer. Grumbling he wandered into the living room, and seeing Miriam's sleeping figure lying on the couch he sighed heavily to himself.

"Bloody Miriam, always passing out this early on…" he muttered to himself, and walked around to her to wake her up. Before his hand touched her shoulder, however, he noticed something else. A sleeping Helga, sharing the couch with Miriam, the two of them snoring lightly. Bob felt his anger wash away and he smiled to himself. Carefully he took the blanket off the back of the couch and placed it over the two of them, kissing them both on the forehead. He then sat in then chair opposite and began watching TV. Waking them up could wait.

* * *

><p>Helga walked to school hesitantly Monday morning. Phoebe had called her the day before, asking about the pregnancy test. Apparently she had heard it off Gerald, and if Gerald knew, Arnold knew. And if they knew, the rest of the school would know too. When she made it to school she stood in the gateway hesitantly, wondering if she should go in or if she should wag the day off and go into the city for some alone time. Then again, she'd never run away from anything before, why should she do it now? She puffed up her chest and walked into the school, scowling as she walked. People were bound to try and bully her, but hell, she was <em>Helga Pataki<em>. She never let anyone push her around, and she wasn't about to start now!

She didn't make it halfway across the school yard when she was confronted by Rhonda and Nadine.

"Hello Helga. On your way to our group, are you?" Rhonda snapped, and Helga grunted.

"What do you want, Rhonda?"

"Just to let you know that everyone knows you're pregnant. And we _cannot_ have that kind of bad publicity at our table. So I'm going to have to ask you not to come over to our table anymore," Rhonda said in possibly the bitchiest tone Helga had ever heard. Helga felt her heart flutter at the confrontation, felt Ryan appear in the back of her mind, but before letting it show she scoffed loudly.

"Don't flatter yourself Rhonda. I know you think you're the top shit but the truth is you're just the same as everyone else. In fact, you're worse. You're selfish, stuck up and care so much about your appearance that you'll sell out your friends at a chance to shine. I'd rather be alone than be like you," Helga spat, and Rhonda's mouth dropped open as Helga pushed past her. She made her way to the lockers without too much trouble, a couple of dirty looks from some of the people Rhonda was friends with, a few whispers behind hands, but nothing too excessive. As she gathered her books for first class Phoebe found her.

"Hi Helga!"

"Oh, hey Pheebs, what's up?"

"Not a lot… just wondering how you were?"

"Yeah, I'm doing okay. Just trying to ignore the dirty looks everyone is obsessed with giving me. How about yourself Pheebs? How'd the date with Gerald go? Put in a good word for me?"

"Of course, Helga. I never give anything but good words. Of course, if you told me what you did buy the test for I could vouch for you a lot easier. Are you sure it's completely a secret?"

"Completely a secret. So secret I can't even tell you, Pheebs. I'm sorry, I wish I could," Helga said, honestly believing her own words. She wished she could tell Phoebe everything but… well, she just couldn't.

Ever since the pregnancy test Helga had been contemplating telling people about it more and more. She didn't know who she could tell, though. She loved Phoebe, but she didn't really deal with heavy days things like this so much. It made her uncomfortable. Despite the strange bonding moment shared with Miriam she didn't feel close enough to tell her either. Aside from that there was Arnold, who she knew she could trust with anything, but…

"So, where are we going to sit now?" Phoebe interrupted her thoughts, and Helga frowned at her.

"What do you mean?"

"Rhonda was talking earlier about her not wanting you sitting with us. So, where do you think we should sit? I looked into it and I thought the place underneath the tree in the courtyard could be nice,"

Helga shook her head, smiling. Trust Phoebe to cheer her up in a heartbeat. Helga placed her hand on Phoebes shoulder and grinned.

"Don't be silly, Phoebe. We're best friends; we don't need to sit with one another at lunchtime to remain that way. I'll be fine sitting by myself- you know me, I can keep myself busy. You keep sitting with the girls. It doesn't make sense we _both_ die of social suicide because of me,"

"Oh, but Helga, are you sure?"

"I'm insisting," Helga slammed the door to her locker shut, and leaned against it despite the bell having already rung. "Now go on. You of all people can't afford to be late," she smiled, and Phoebe smiled kindly back and wrapped her arms around her friend.

"Thanks Helga. I'll see you after school," she promised, turned and headed off to class. Helga watched her friend weave her way through the swarms of people until she was out of sight. When finally she disappeared from sight, Helga couldn't help but keep staring at the place she'd once been. No matter what anyone said about Phoebe being nerdy and kind of socially awkward, Helga wouldn't trade her for anything in the world. It wasn't until most of people had left the hallway that Helga finally tore her eyes away and pulled herself off her locker for class.

And her eyes landed right on Arnold.

He was standing directly in front of her, eyes fixed on hers, expression unreadable. He wore his old flannel shirt, blue jeans and his hat, and for a long time neither of them said anything. It wasn't until the last student had closed the door to their classroom did he speak.

"So, I heard the rumours,"

"Yeah I think just about everyone has heard the rumours Arnold," Helga answered sarcastically, and Arnold hung his head, letting his blonde hair cover his eyes.

"Well… I don't want to believe something that isn't true,"

"Then don't," Helga answered simply, and turned around to open her locker once more, despite not needing a thing out of it. Inside, taped to the door, was an old photo of her and Arnold, taken as friends. She felt a pang travel all the way down to her feet. She wondered if Arnold could see the photo; she wasn't sure if she wanted him too or not.

"Helga… I don't want to play these games anymore. I want us to be friends, like before. I don't know what I did wrong, but again, I'm sorry. Please, Helga. Just… tell me everything is okay?" his voice called out from behind her, and Helga felt her heart leap into her throat. She wanted to turn around, but she didn't want him to see the tears that had sprung into her eyes. For a couple of minutes, Helga stood motionless, trying to think of something to say. Eventually she knew she couldn't lie to Arnold.

"No," she whispered, "Everything isn't okay," she heard Arnold take a step closer to her, and she shut the locker door forcibly to ward him off coming closer. She blinked the tears away furiously, and turned to face him.

"I'm not pregnant, if that's what you came here to find out," she said, trying to sound bitter. Arnold took a step back and flicked his hair from his face.

"Well… that is what I heard. Rhonda said she saw you with a pregnancy test, and that she saw it was positive," he told her, and Helga bit her lip angrily. That lying bitch!

"She saw me with a pregnancy test, an unused one. I didn't give her details, so she made it up. It's very classy of her," Helga answered, and Arnold shrugged.

"So… what were you doing with a pregnancy test?"

"What do you think, Arnold?" Helga answered, finally exhausted. One secret was enough for her right now. No, wait, make that two secrets. She was so used to keeping her secret about Arnold under wraps that it seemed almost like the truth to her now. _You wear a mask for so long, you forget who you were beneath it._ Before he had a chance to answer, she pushed past him and began walking to class.

"So… you thought you could have been?"

"Give it a rest, Arnold,"

"When? At Rhonda's party?" Arnold hurried along behind her. "Because I thought…"

"You thought _what_, Arnold?" Helga snapped, spinning to face him so fast he almost bumped into her. "You thought you'd start caring? You thought just because you kissed me it meant I was yours for the night? Despite you running off to Lila only hours afterwards?" Helga growled, and Arnold visibly gulped before her.

"No, Arnold, it wasn't that night. It was a couple weeks before. Not that it's any of your business. Now if you'd be so kind, I'd prefer you didn't talk to me about it anymore, okay?" she hissed, and turned to keep walking. Before she took so much of a step, Arnold spoke again.

"Did you love him?"

"Excuse me?"

"The guy… the guy lucky enough to… to… did you love him?" Arnold asked behind her. His voice was small, and Helga bit her lip as memories rushed to her mind, flooding her thoughts.

"No," she finally answered. "No. I didn't at all,"

The bell rang as class finished, and Helga was glad to be hiding within the crowd as she walked away. Despite wanting to with all her might she didn't look back, and didn't let the tears come out until the bathroom door was locked tightly behind her. Little did she know Arnold had remained motionless, almost in a trance, until had Gerald wandered out to ask him where he was. Gerald draped his shoulder around Arnold's shoulders, comforting him in telling him everything would be alright, and that Helga was crazy. Gerald watched as his best friend moped about the rest of the day, and snarled to himself. He wasn't putting up with this Helga bullshit anymore.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: OOOOOH. EXCITING. RIGHT? No? Shh. It totally is.**


	8. Chapter 8: A need for friends

**A/N: Hey guys. Sorry for such a poorly revised chapter- I'm really busy with assignments! Stupid university. Getting close to the end now. I just want to thank all the people who reviewed after the last chapter. Apparently promises of virtual cake work wonders. This time if you review, I'll give you virtual puppies. VIRTUAL PUPPIES, GUYS. Enjoy the chapter.**

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing! NOTHING!**_

* * *

><p>Arnold sat on Lila's bed, watching the ceiling. She had photographs glue-tacked to the plaster, pictures of friends from her home who she was anxious to return to. The corner of one of the pictures, a picture of a Lila and a girl with big teeth, had broken away from the glue-tack and hung loosely, threatening to take the rest of the photograph with it.<p>

It made Arnold incredibly angry. A part of him wanted to take down the photograph altogether and shred it.

The toilet in the next room flushed, bringing Arnold out from his trance. He looked away from the annoying photograph and listened to the sound of Lila washing her hands, waiting for her to appear from around the corner. When she did, she smiled sweetly and sat on the bed with him, intertwining her hands with his.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" she asked, and Arnold sighed heavily, taking his hand from hers and running them through his hair.

"Nothing. Everything is fine,"

"Come on, Arnold. Tell me what's wrong,"

Arnold sighed and flopped back on the bed. "Uh… well, it's Helga. She…"

"Is pregnant, I heard. Why is that bothering you?"

"She's not pregnant!" Arnold snapped angrily, and then lowered his defences. "I mean, it was just a rumour. I asked her about it, and she said she bought a pregnancy test, but that she wasn't pregnant. She won't talk to me, Lila. I don't know what to do," he muttered. Lila looked away and rolled her eyes, not intending for Arnold to see, but he did.

"Well, Arnold, have you considered minding your own business?" she said delicately, and Arnold frowned.

"Uh…"

"Look. Helga is obviously going through some personal stuff, and if she doesn't want you helping her through it, there's nothing you can do. If she asks for help, of course you should do what you can. Otherwise, I'd just leave her alone. Who knows? Maybe when she's done going through all this stuff, you and her can be friends again. Just give her time," Lila said, and Arnold sighed heavily. He had to admit she was probably right, he didn't know what was going on in her life.

"You're right, Lila. I just… you don't understand. I don't know why she would suddenly shut me out like that," he said sadly, and Lila brushed a stray hair from his face.

"Well… there is something I _do_ understand…" she murmured, and before Arnold had any idea what she was talking about her eyes were closed and she was kissing him. And not a peck, like Arnold was used to. Lila deepened the kiss, and as Arnold kissed her back Helga slipped from his mind. Butterflies took off in his stomach as he enjoyed one of his first real kisses. His hand gently grasped the back of her head and he propped himself up on his spare arm, kissing her further. Eventually he found himself on top of her, and she, while still kissing him, was taking his hand and placing it on her breast. Just when he was about to ask if she was sure it was okay, she said it. Her lips parted from his, breaking the kiss only slightly as she spoke the words that caused Arnold to tear away from her, raise his voice, listen, heartbroken as she explained what happened. Arnold left the hotel in a huff, his eyes puffy and red. He walked away from the hotel in a slump, his shoulders slouched as he walked, his mind whirring. Helga, Lila, it didn't matter. It seemed like there was nothing right at the moment. He thought about whether or not to call Gerald, or go home and seek advice from Grandpa, but instead he found himself just continuing to walk, to nowhere in particular. And then he was running. Running from everything. And, for a moment, he stopped caring. Stopped caring about what Lila had said, about why Helga was angry. His mind emptied as his mind focused on making his body move, faster and faster, until the world was just a blur, and he didn't hear Mr. Green call out to say hello, and he didn't see the pot plant that he aggressively kicked over. He didn't see the road come up before him, and he didn't hear the truck as it hit the breaks to avoid him. He didn't see Helga, crouched behind the bushes in the park. He didn't notice Gerald, who called out for him to slow down. He didn't see Grandpa and Mr Hyunh's checker table, or the sidewalk near Gerald field that snagged his shoe, and sent him flying face first into the pavement.

His heart pounding, and head throbbing, it was all Arnold could do to drag himself off the pavement and onto the grassy field, where he laid his head in the grass and listened to the wind rush past his face. If he cried, no one saw him.

* * *

><p>Helga stood motionless for a while, watching the spot where Arnold had just been. He was there and gone so fast, but it hadn't stopped her from seeing his eyes, red and bloodshot. She had crawled out from behind the bush and watched as Gerald called out to his best friend to stop, only to have Arnold keep on racing past. Both Helga and Gerald stood, only a few meters apart, watching as Arnold kept speeding past and out of their sight. Gerald seemed to sigh after a while, and turned around to resume whatever he was doing. He spotted her, and Helga sighed. She hadn't really wanted to be seen, not even by the speedy Arnold. The school week had been incredibly painful, what with glares, yells across classrooms, people throwing things at her, and, of course, avoiding Arnold at all costs, so much that she wagged History class a couple times just so she wouldn't have to risk meeting his gaze. It hurt her too much. Being at home was no good, either. Of course, her parents didn't know about the test or the rumours, but she didn't like it there either. She just wanted some time alone in the park to write in her two books, both the blue and the pink.<p>

Gerald was making his way over to her. Helga found herself tossing up between the options- should she stay and listen to whatever he wanted to say to her, or risk making a run for it? Incredibly tempted to do the latter, Helga decided she may as well stand her ground. No matter what Gerald could say, it couldn't hurt her any more than her conversation with Arnold had a few days previous.

"Hey Helga,"

"Hey, Tall-hair boy. What can I do for ya?"

"I was just going to ask if you knew what that was all about?" Gerald asked, jerking his thumb in the direction Arnold had run off in. Helga shook her head.

"No. No idea. Is that all?" Helga spat, wondering if he was just going to hurry up and ask her the question that was on everyone's mind- are you pregnant?

"Well, no," Gerald answered, taking a step closer and straightening himself up, so that he towered over her.

"_Well, this is it! My home," Ryan said cheerfully, and Helga looked around. She had sobered up from the walk and the run, but only a little. Had she really agreed to go to his house? She must have, or why else would she be there?_

"_It's… nice," she guessed, and Ryan laughed._

"_Yeah, it's not much, but it'll do. Come on, let me show you inside. I have a bathroom?" Ryan suggested, and Helga realised that she did need to pee, quite badly. She made it to his doorway before he did, and as soon as the key turned the lock she was inside and in his bathroom. As she urinated she realised properly how drunk she was. Bathroom toilets weren't very comfortable. She finished her business, took note of how unclean the bathroom was as she washed her hands, and wandered back into the living room, taking in for the first time his living/bedroom/kitchen. It was an incredibly small place, but still, it was alright for a college student._

"_Let me give you the grand tour… okay done!" Ryan joked, and Helga laughed, accepting the drink he handed her without question. Not that she needed more to drink, but she figured she may as well. She'd gone this far. She had barely managed to finish the drink when Ryan was pushing her up against the wall, kissing her ferociously. She kissed him back, until she realised his hand had moved to her breast._

"_Whoa, back up," she said, wanting to back up herself but being against the wall and not having much choice but to stand still. "We don't want things to get out hand, right?"_

_Ryan stood up tall, his charming smile still planted on his lips as he towered over her, looking down, a gentle hand moving a piece of hair from her face._

"_You're right, sorry; I guess the alcohol took over a little. Want another drink?" he offered, and was already at the bench making her one. She swayed a little, and started edging towards the door. Something about this was starting to feel funny, like how drunk she was, and, she only just realised, how not-drunk Ryan was._

"_Uh… I think that's probably enough. I should probably…" her hand fell on the doorknob when he towered over her again, his structure tall and broad. He took her hand from the doorknob and placed the drink in her hand._

"_Come on, I'm sorry. Just stay for one more drink, and I'll show you that TV show I was telling you about. Just one episode, what's the worst that could happen?"_

Helga's flashback was there and over so quickly, Gerald was still trying to choose the right words by the time it was done. She desperately clutched the books in her hand to her chest, and tried to breathe deeply. She just had to wait through Gerald, and then she could deal with the memory on her own.

"Listen, Helga," Gerald finally came up with, and Helga shook her head slightly to clear it. "I want to talk to you about Arnold, actually. Now, I know it's none of my business, but don't you think you're acting a little rashly by shutting him, let alone _everyone_, out of your life like that? I mean, he just wants to help you, Helga," Gerald said, and Helga scoffed. So it wasn't about being pregnant, which was a relief, at least.

"You're right Gerald; it is none of your business. Arnold and I are much more complicated than you could understand. You wouldn't understand why…"

"I know you like him," Gerald interrupted, and Helga froze mid speech. Suddenly she had no words, and even Ryan and the flashback were temporarily gone. Gerald knew. Phoebe told him? No, she wouldn't risk the friendship. Then how did he…? "No, I haven't told him, and no, he doesn't know. No one told me, if that's what that face is about. When you're best friends with someone, you notice when people like them. I bet you noticed when I liked Phoebe?" Gerald suggested, and Helga gulped. _Take it easy, Helga…_

"Uh… I guess so…"

"Now, I don't know what the deal about this pregnancy thing is, and I _know_ it's not Arnold's doing. But why don't I ask you something? Do you really think you're going to get closer to Arnold by pushing him away? Arnold doesn't care… okay, well, maybe he does," Gerald looked behind him to where Arnold had been, his face growing sadder with concern. "But, he wouldn't let that stand between anything you and him might one day have. I think you and Arnold would be great, and I'm not just being nice _or_ a bad friend when I tell you that I think you have a chance," Gerald told her, and Helga felt her heart suddenly soar. Through the trees, over the mountains, into the waterfalls. A chance with Arnold, as told by Arnold's best friend.

"…but you _won't_ have a chance if you keep this up. I know he's with Lila, but she's not right for him! And you! You're making him so mopey all the time!" Gerald was yelling now, and Helga felt herself wanting to retreat. Tall, yelling men was something she had more than enough of. "You're making the kid miserable, and all he wants to do is be your friend! If you don't want to talk to him about being pregnant or not being pregnant or _whatever_, then that's fine! Just… stop shutting him out, alright? You're hurting him!" Gerald snapped, and turned to stomp off. Just as he was almost out of earshot, he turned to face her.

"Oh, and stop avoiding Phoebe, too! She misses her best friend," he snapped, and stomped off. Helga stood awkwardly for a while, books still tight to her chest, and she exhaled deeply.

Guess she was wrong about what Gerald said not upsetting her like Arnold did. She had never taken the time to consider what her actions might be doing to him. She, for some reason, imagined him angry, or maybe even sad for just a little while, when she stormed off on him. But the way Gerald described it; it made it sound like she was really getting to the kid. She didn't want that. She bit her lip as rainclouds threatened overhead, and sighed, beginning to walk in the same direction as Arnold had. She let her thoughts swim on the walk over to him, the memory of Ryan, everything Gerald had said. She even managed to send a text message to Phoebe, apologising for acting so distant, to which Phoebe forgave instantly and asked her around for a movie the next night. She only made it a few blocks when the rain started, not heavily, but enough to dampen her clothes considerably and send a chill straight to the bone by the time she got to Gerald field.

Arnold was no longer lying down, but rather standing, and aimlessly throwing the ball at the wall opposite him. Helga gulped and made her way over to him, the mud squelching beneath her shoes as she stepped. She approached Arnold and stood a few feet behind him, biting her lip anxiously.

"What're you doing in the rain, Arnold?" she asked him, wondering if he had even noticed she was there.

"I could ask you the same question," is all he answered back with, and Helga sighed.

"Uh… what's wrong?" she ventured, not really knowing what else to say.

"Why do you care?" the ball smacked the wall with a thud, sending droplets spraying from it, before it bounced straight back into Arnold's hand. He seemed angry. Helga wanted to run away, but she had to apologise, at least.

"Um… I'm sorry for treating you how I did. I just… I'm not sure how to deal with things right now," she said awkwardly, and Arnold threw the ball so hard that it bounced off the wall and landed behind them somewhere. He turned to face her, frowning.

"So instead of treating me like a friend you treated me like a nemesis? Come on Helga, what did I do wrong?" he asked, and Helga sighed, looking at her feet.

"You didn't do anything wrong. I'm the one who did everything wrong," she muttered, and Arnold rearranged his cap to keep the water from splashing directly into his eyes. Helga wished she had something; she was blinking like crazy trying to keep the water out. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm just a bad person,"

"Well, then do you want to tell me what's been bothering you for weeks?"

Helga bit her lip and turned her face away from him.

"I… I can't,"

"Yet you have to nerve to ask _me_ what's wrong?"

"I was just worried about you,"

"Exactly what I've been doing about you," Arnold wandered off, supposedly looking for the ball. Helga trailed along behind him, pretending to look but not really doing it. In her mind she was trying to think of something to say, something that might make it all right, but only one thing came to mind. The truth. But she couldn't do it, not right now...

"His name was Ryan," she spat out, and Arnold turned to look at her. She felt her voice catching in her throat, but she struggled to continue. "I met him at a club that I used my fake ID to sneak me into. I told my parents I would be at Phoebes, but really I just wanted to get away from them, and their shouting. It… he…" Helga couldn't continue. Tears threatened at her eyes, and she only hoped Arnold would think it was the raindrops. No such luck, of course. Arnold's arms were around her within moments, and Helga sniffed and hugged him back, letting the rain wash any stray tears away. She still hadn't cried since the moment in the shower the morning after the incident, and she didn't want to give Ryan the satisfaction of any more than that.

"Come on," Arnold said, breaking the hug at last. "I have hot chocolate at home. Let's go warm up," he said, and Helga nodded timidly. Suddenly she was so afraid. The idea of telling Arnold- only telling Arnold half of it- was far less scary in the rain, in the outside. The idea of being inside, being able to see and hear everything clearly… it was almost too much to bear. Arnold's hand in hers as they crossed the street calmed her almost to the point of happiness.

Arnold's house was surprisingly quiet for once, the rain being the only sound that entered through the walls. As Arnold made them hot chocolate Helga dried her hair and tried to dry her shirt- she really had gotten soaked- Helga built up the courage to ask the question.

"So… how are things with Lila?"

"Over," Arnold replied flatly, and Helga resisted dancing right there in the chair behind him.

"Oh, why?" she did her best to sound convincing. But, truthfully, it was by far the best news she'd heard all day. "Is that why you were out in the rain?"

"Yeah, it was. And… well, if I'm honest, she and I were making out…" _Yuck. Thanks for that,_ Helga thought bitterly "and… she said Arnie's name,"

Helga's mouth dropped open.

"She _what!_"

"You know my cousin. The weird one who quite liked you, and lint,"

"Yeah, I remember him… so; she was just using you because she thought she could pass you off for _him?_ That _freak?_"

Arnold laughed a little. "Yeah, I guess so. I don't think she realised she was doing it until she said the name either. I just… I don't really know what to think about it,"

"Well, hurt for one," Helga suggested, and Arnold laughed.

"Yeah, that's for sure. Come on, let's take these upstairs," he handed her the hot chocolate and the two of them made their way to the bedroom in silence. One they were in and the door was closed, Helga sat herself on the edge of Arnold's bed and drank the warm liquid gratefully. It sure warmed her up.

"You know, even though I liked Lila…" Arnold said, taking off his wet jumper and his soaked through shirt. "I think I mostly just liked the memory of her. I mean, I definitely _liked_ her, but, now we've broken up, I don't think I liked her as much as I thought I did. I think I was more upset about how you'd been treating me than her saying my cousins name," Arnold pulled on a dry shirt and pulled on a jacket over the top, and that's when Helga realised she hadn't really been listening. Arnold had never changed like that in front of her, and she'd remember if he did, and she couldn't help but stare. She swore, every time she saw him without a shirt on he only got more attractive.

"Well… that's odd," was all she could come up with, and Arnold looked at her shivering on the bed.

"Here," he dug into his cupboard and threw a jumper at her. "I think that's the smallest I have. Put it on and I'll go dry our clothes. Here, I won't look," Arnold turned around and Helga looked at the jumper, hugging it briefly before stripping her own jumper and shirt and pulling it on. It smelled just like Arnold, she wished she could keep it forever.

"Decent," she said when she was sure she was, and Arnold caught the clothes she threw at him and went downstairs to dry them. Alone in Arnold's room for a few moments, Helga laid down on his bed and let another choke escape her lips before sighing heavily and smiling. Even now, after being in Arnold's room a number of times, Helga still relished it. As soon as she heard his footsteps on the stairs Helga sat back upright and pretended like she had never moved.

"Shouldn't take long," Arnold said and sat on the bed beside her. For a while, they sat in silence and sipped their drinks, letting themselves get warm. "So…" Arnold finally asked, "Is it okay if I ask about this Ryan guy?"

Helga hesitated. For a moment she wanted to throw the hot beverage on the floor and tell him to mind his own business. But instead she just nodded.

"Well… was he a boyfriend of yours I didn't know about?"

"No, he wasn't,"

"So it was a one night stand?"

"In a way,"

"Have you heard from him since?"

"No,"

"Do you wish you would?"

"No,"

They sat in silence for a moment longer. Helga sipped her drink, wishing Arnold would be done already, but knowing there were probably a lot more questions to come. Questions she would either answer, or act calmly about. It was like Gerald said. You don't have to talk; you just have to be friends.

"So, um… why'd you do it?"

The question caught Helga off guard. While she tried to think of an answer she realised it was a question she had been avoiding herself. Why had she let everything happen, happen? Why did she let him get her drunk, take her to his house, upstairs and give her more drinks?

"I guess… I guess…"

"You don't have to answer if you don't have one,"

"No, Arnold, I do. I just…" she sighed and bit her lip. "I guess I just wanted… something. Guys never pay any attention to me, at least not in that way, and my family is always fighting and you…" Helga stopped short. She had almost told Arnold that she was upset about getting nowhere with him! "You were someone I didn't think I could talk to about it," she covered, and Arnold put his cup down on the bedside table.

"But Helga, any guy would be lucky to have you! Why did you feel the need to go so far? Did it at least make you feel better?" he asked, as if not really knowing what questions to ask himself.

"No. It made me feel worse than I've ever felt before," Helga answered, and Arnold fell silent. Helga downed the rest of her chocolate and turned to face him, crossing her legs on the bed.

"Can I ask you a question?" she asked, and he nodded.

"Sure,"

"The night at Rhonda's, you kissed me. Why?" she asked, and Arnold blushed a deep red.

"I told you, because I was drunk,"

"I know that, but even in your drunken brain there must have been a reason of some sort,"

"I guess… I guess I wanted to," he answered, and Helga nodded, realising this was the best possible answer she could get from the question. "I have another one," Arnold said, and finished his own drink before asking. "Was he kind to you?"

"What?"

"You know… did he make sure it wouldn't hurt and that you were comfortable?" Trust Arnold to ask a question like that.

"No, it wasn't like that at all,"

"So it did hurt then?"

"More than anything,"

"Why didn't you tell him to stop?"

Suddenly the conversation was out of hand. Helga fought away the tears and shook her head. "I think I'm done talking about it, Arnold,"

"Helga… you know, no matter what, I'll never judge you on what you did,"

"How come you're so inquisitive?"

"I guess… I don't know. It hurt me when I found out it'd happened, I suppose. Maybe it was finding out through hearing you were pregnant. I don't know, something about it stung me," Arnold sighed and tried to lay backwards on the bed, but instead whacked his head on the shelves behind him. Helga had to laugh.

"I remember when I was small enough to do that and have bed room to spare," he grumbled, rubbing the sore spot, and Helga smiled.

"Arnold?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry again for being so terrible,"

"That's okay. I just don't understand one thing,"

"What's that?"

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why be mean to me, act like I was an enemy of yours? You said I did nothing wrong and that it was all you- but if what you said about it being before Rhonda's party is true then it can't have been about that," he twisted his face a little in confusion. "Why were you being mean?"

Helga bit her lip. _It's okay, Helga. You can do this._ "I guess…" she started. "I guess… I mean … I guess I was angry, jealous maybe. Of you and Lila, and that I couldn't have something like that," she stammered, and Arnold smiled sadly.

"Helga, you should never think things like that. You'll find the perfect guy one day, and he'll treat you how you should be treated. The next time you do it, it'll be special… and hopefully you won't have a scare," he said a little awkwardly, and Helga forced an obviously fake laugh. They sat awkwardly as the rain became heavier on Arnold's roof, and Helga smiled a little inside herself at the sound.

"So, can we be friends again?" Helga asked, still looking at the ceiling. "I didn't realise how much I missed having you around until today,"

"I did. I missed you every day. Every day I tried to think of something that would make you like me again, but nothing ever came. You can be a cold person when you want to be,"

"I know, I'm sorry,"

"You've said that a few times, and I told you its okay. I'd love to be friends with you again, but on one condition,"

"Yeah?"

"Don't ever shut me out again like that. No matter what,"

"It's a deal, Arnold," Helga answered, smiling, and laid down on the bed next to Arnold to watch the rain hit the ceiling. For a long time neither of them said or did anything, just watched the rain fall onto the glass paned roof, finally smiling as Arnold slipped his hand into hers.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: As promised, here is cake. *Virtual cake***


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